The Broken Road
by JustMyLuckiness
Summary: AU. It's a long, winding, and occasionally broken road to finding each other. Kate and Rick square off against an extremely intelligent, patient killer while dealing with their mutual feelings. Rick/Kate, but not right away. Season 2 onward. NOT a 'Crazy Eyes' story!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello again everyone! Thank you for giving this story a shot!**

**This is an edited re-post of the first chapter; after the wonderful and talented Katherine Houghton Beckett gave me some truly awesome beta help, it's more readable. That accounts for the delay, and I apologize to all who alerted, reviewed, and favorited this story.  
**

**This is something of a departure for me. I've written long stories before, but the way this stands in my head, it will be my longest yet. There will be a bit of everything…angst, romance, drama, action, and humor, starting in Season 2. The story is ambitious, and I'm not sure I'll be able to pull it off. I really hope you'll let me know if you think it's good enough to keep going with it.**

**As usual, I don't own the show, characters, yadda, yadda, yadda. No profits, etc. **

**The story starts in Season 2, between 'The Late Shaft' and 'Den of Thieves', so Beckett isn't with Demming yet and Castle hasn't regressed with Gina yet.**

* * *

_April 18, 2010 _

Warm. Wet. Tight. Pulsing. Hot. Coffee colored hair spilled out across a white pillowcase. Delicious breasts arching below him, begging for attention from hands and lips.

Delirium.

_Sweet merciful God…_

"Oh Kate…" he moaned, the force of his release leaving him shaking.

"What the _fuck_ did you just call me?"

He froze. She froze. It took a minute for his big brain to divert enough blood back from his little brain to realize where he was and more importantly, _who_ he was actually with. An icy silence pervaded the previously passionate penthouse apartment. The confusion on both sides rapidly turned to outrage for the one and mortification for the other.

"I um…I meant…That is to say…" He stammered, ashamed at more than just his inability to form a coherent sentence. Angry blue eyes glared up at him and she pushed him out of her, practically shoving him off the bed.

"My name is Shannon, you asshole!" She said, throwing various articles of clothing at him. He crab-walked across the bed, falling down in his haste to escape both her righteous anger and his own stupidity. He scrambled to collect his clothes, but she was off of the bed by then and her slaps and kicks made dressing rather difficult. He paused a moment to admire her verbal dexterity in the variety of truly impressive obscenities that she threw in his wake.

"Just hold on a minute!" He tried to slow down her assault, but she was too outraged to listen. When his pants and undershirt were on and he could be seen in public without being arrested, he made his escape.

She unleashed one last barb. "Get your shit out of my apartment, Rob!"

Leaning back into the doorway, he gave her an evil grin. "It's Rick. Rick Castle. Bestselling author? Maybe you've read my books?" Recognition turned her outrage into dismay and he thought he saw dollar signs flash in her eyeballs. She reached out for the door and cried "Wait!" He slammed the door shut in her face.

_Mercenary bitch._

Finally done with her, he stood in the hallway, shirt un-tucked and carrying his socks and shoes. The shattering of a glass on the other side of the wooden panel confirmed that a few brief moments of potential humiliation outside her door was preferable to lacerations that would require stitches.

He laced up his shoes and heaved a defeated sigh at another failed date before walking toward the elevator.

* * *

New York as a whole, but most especially Manhattan, became a different city in the middle of the night. The frenetic pace of the day gave way to a quietude that was soothing for those cursed without sleep, which was to be his lot that night. It wasn't overly far to walk back to his loft, and he felt like using the time for introspection. _Or torturing myself, which ever fit._

Fortunately, the warm spring evening made it a pleasant walk, and the earlier than expected conclusion to the evening's festivities meant that he had the time to brood. The procession of meaningless dates he'd gone on to fill the void of loneliness since his relationship with Jennifer had all ended in varying degrees of misery, but this last one really took the prize. He'd actually managed to moan Kate's name in the throes of an orgasm with another woman. _You're a complete asshat, Richard Castle. _

The depression plaguing his return home was the latest in a line of mood swings. He'd intended to spend his night brooding over his latest broken relationship at a random. Ensconced on a stool at the corner of the bar, he was in full mope mode, staring into the swirling amber tumbler of scotch that was old enough to vote when she sat down.

"Do you always drink alone when you're this miserable?" Her voice reminded him of honey, smooth and sweet with just a hint of something smoky.

"No, I drink in groups of one or more," he shot back, still focused on the whiskey, remembering the line from some TV show he couldn't place.

She'd signaled to the bartender for two more of what he had in front of him. "I'm Shannon," she introduced, but instead of offering her hand, she gave his forearm a gentle squeeze.

The affection in the gesture finally brought his eyes up to meet her gaze. Dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, soft cheekbones and a warm smile, she looked nice. _Nice. I can't even come up with a decent adjective tonight._ Soft honey-blonde hair cascaded in waves down to just below her shoulder line. Mischievous blue eyes twinkled at him above the Cupid's bow of an extremely kissable mouth. She leaned over the bar to draw his attention to the just barely decent cut of her pink floral top, showcasing delectable cleavage.

"I'm Richard," he said. _No need for anyone to know who I really am,_ he thought, _it's not like I'll be starting anything. Although…_the thought he was currently entertaining was a pleasant one.

As it turned out, he didn't have to start anything; Shannon was more than willing, going out of her way to flirt incessantly. She kept a hand on him at all times, whether it was on his shoulder, arm, or thigh. Truthfully, he appreciated her effort when she refused to let him drown in his depression. She said she was a financial analyst of some kind, for some hedge fund he'd never heard of. Strange, that. His books had brought in enough money that he was familiar with most of the more complicated financial arrangements.

"So, who are you here to forget?" she asked after a couple hours and more than a couple rounds.

Being reminded of his turmoil brought his eyes back down to his glass. "What makes you think I'm trying to forget anyone?"

"Give me a _little _credit. A guy as hot as you, drinking alone at a pub?" She laughed and her shoulders shook, causing her ample breasts to bounce. Her mirth slowly faded, expression now serious. "You were ignoring everyone around you so completely that I had to come over and flirt with you to get your attention." Her regard was such that he felt compelled to meet her gaze.

Desire and excitement warred for dominance in her eyes. She was genuinely reaching out to him, and with that realization, the words started pouring out of him. "Katherine," he breathed, "her name is Katherine. She's my partner at work, and she doesn't see me the way I see her. It's tough sometimes. I just got out of a relationship with someone else who couldn't take how close she and I have to be because of our job, not to mention how dangerous it can be."

"Don't feel like you have to pretend anything with me, Richard," she said, "Let's just use tonight as a reason to get to know each other. No pressure."

From there, the date went without hiccups. He actually allowed himself to forget his misery for just one evening, and by the time they got back to her apartment he was fully swallowed up in the moment.

_Until I had to go and ruin it._ No one took kindly to being called another name in bed.

Self-loathing, while a rare visitor over the past few months with Jennifer, happily found its old place burning at the center of his gut and intensifying with every step. It was a lesson he'd learned painfully as an adolescent, reinforced over the decades since: Ricky Rodgers never got the girl. _Never keeps the girl might be a better way to say it. _His footsteps echoed hollowly on the concrete, tomb-like in its empty resonance. The regular pacing of his steps allowed his brain to wander without devoting more energy and focus to movement than was absolutely necessary. His mortification from that evening was front and center in his mind, but the roots of what happened brought old memories to his mind and reopened wounds he thought were long healed.

A few blocks into his walk back - he was so lost in thought that the exact distance escaped him - he remembered his eighth grade crush: Sherry Ort. She was one of the cheerleaders, for whatever reason eighth graders needed cheerleaders. Blonde, bubbly, and one of the most popular girls in his class, she'd sought him out for help on a grammar lesson and English paper before a big football game. During the time he 'helped' her write the paper – with wording carefully altered so that it didn't seem like he had written the entire thing – they'd gotten along well enough that he felt brave enough to ask her to the Christmas Dance. It didn't hurt that she'd kissed him on the cheek after showing him the bright red 'A' on top of the paper. He'd even let her borrow his lunch money the day before he was going to ask her to the dance. He was just about to turn the corner in a hallway when he heard her talking with a friend.

"EW! You kissed Ricky Rodgers?"

"Well, it was just on the cheek and he helped me get an 'A' on Mrs. Parker's English paper. It's not like it means anything, right?"

"You'd better hope not! If he thinks you're going out now…"

"Trust me; he does NOT think we're going out. It was just a kiss on the cheek. Besides, there's no way I'd go out with a nerd like him anyway."

Their giggles at his expense followed him back up the hallway, the only small mercy being that he hadn't actually asked her to the dance.

In the grand scheme of things, losing a seventh grade crush wasn't something to get that upset about, but when viewed in light of the rest of his romantic endeavors, it took on new significance. The intensity of his embarrassment, private though it was, burned the girls' exchange into his memory.

_Yep. You're a first-rate loser._

* * *

In high school, it had been Elizabeth Gershing.

They were the two romantic leads in the drama society's springtime adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. At the time, seeing their two names on the cast listing was like a dream come true. The first time he'd laid eyes on her long brown hair, warm chocolate-colored eyes, and curves that would have a Formula One driver nervous, his heart started beating double time. Aphrodite herself would not have had the same impact. Playing Romeo to her Juliet was a chance to get to know her as a person, rather than as some far-off vision of beauty.

His adolescent mind wanted nothing more than to be able to sit back and adore her. Rehearsals were exercises in self-control, toning down his attraction long enough to focus on remembering his lines. It was brutal.

After the performance, she gave him a hug, "You were great out there, Ricky!"

"Thanks," he said, blushing bashfully, "Um, would you maybe want to go get some pizza or something sometime?"

Her face went from the euphoria of pulling off a successful acting performance to dismay. "Oh Rick, I can't. It was great to perform with you here, but I'm sort of going out with someone already." She was trying to let him down gently, but it was still a thud nonetheless.

He scrambled to save face, attempting a charming smile to play off her refusal. "I meant just as friends, maybe see if some of the other guys wanted to join us. Sorry!" He tried to cover his embarrassment at the rejection by making it seem like there was nothing to reject in the first place, stammering out words which sounded hollow even to him.

She'd cocked an eyebrow and muttered something noncommittal before walking away. Later that day, he saw her heading out of the school, arm in arm with one of the rich, popular kids. He didn't even know his first name, but he knew his face and family name. He was in every club Rick himself aspired to join but was never connected well enough. The kid came from money and had his father's reputation as one of New York's big-time corporate attorneys to trade on as well. The son of a single mother actress was little competition, be it social, economic, popularity, or breeding.

_Way to go there, Castle my man. When they're done with what they need from you, they head for the hills._

* * *

The deeper he delved into his reminisces, the heavier his burden became until his shoulders slumped in dejection. Interestingly, the ache in his chest never seemed to intensify. Heartbreak certainly wasn't plaguing him tonight. Perhaps the alcohol or orgasm were to thank for that. Or both.

_College took the pattern of women fleeing for the hills to new heights_, Castle thought while trudging by some random satellite building belonging to Columbia. The girls he developed interest in were never interested to the same degree. They wanted help with papers or other matters, but when he tried to get dates, they always avoided or deflected.

Kyra was different. They actually had something going, and he was in the early stages of thinking about shopping for rings. With his financial situation being what it was, it wasn't ever going to be very ostentatious, but the writer in him figured the symbolism of the stone outweighed its size.

Unbeknownst to him, her parents started whispering in her ear, ending any chance he'd had for a genuine relationship. It wasn't until the bridesmaid's murder that he found out Kyra's mother had called him a bastard and that her father hadn't been convinced he would ever be able to financially support her. When she came to him, talking about how she just needed time to figure out who she was, he'd accepted it. Then she went to London.

_Great job with that relationship. You really know how to read women, don't you? You were going to propose and she fled the country. _

* * *

Meredith was an attempt at his own escape. That thought hit him at the same time as the first drops of an unpredicted cloudburst. _Why do I suddenly feel like Charlie Brown?_

Where Kyra was serious, career-oriented, and driven, Meredith never put any effort into mental gymnastics if she didn't have to. She was…fun. Her bouncing red hair perfectly reflected her personality, and she was the antithesis of Kyra. She was the breath of fresh air he'd needed to find some closure for himself.

Then along came Alexis. From the earliest stages of Meredith's pregnancy, he saw his chance to provide his child the nuclear family he never had. If asked now, he never should have married Meredith, but Alexis had made him want to try.

Finding her on the couch with her director perhaps shouldn't have been the surprise that it was, but hindsight is always 20/20. His reaction was probably colored by Alexis screaming in her crib, hungry and developing a rash from a diaper that weighed about five pounds. Knowing that she probably owed her life to the fact that Richard put his initial focus on Alexis's discomfort as opposed to her infidelity gave Meredith the impetus to sign over full custody in the divorce.

_That was a real disaster there, but at least you got Alexis out of the deal. All in all, you came out ahead on points._

* * *

Gina was probably the most ill-advised relationship he'd ever tried, not that his list of real relationships was very long.

Her drive to be the best publisher in New York attracted him when he was at a vulnerable time. Alexis was fast approaching the age when she would start to ask awkward questions. Looking back, he could honestly say that part of the reason he was initially attracted to her – other than her incredible beauty – was the fact that he thought she would be a positive female role model for his daughter. He never anticipated that she would bring the same perfectionism she displayed in her work to her personal life.

_Epic flame-out there, Rick. Cost you half your fortune for nothing in return. _

* * *

Jennifer was…unique. Not completely run by her career nor influenced by her family, she was entirely her own. That was one of the things that drew him to her, especially in the aftermath of being kicked out of the 12th precinct. Possessed of the biggest heart he'd ever seen, she had a depth of compassion that overwhelmed him when he saw it in action at the hospital where she worked. Months of dating each other led to an emotional connection stronger than any he'd had since Kyra, but just when he started getting really serious about her, Scott Dunn threw everything into chaos.

Already perturbed by the close partnership and friendship he was developing with Kate, Jen saw a bit of what life would be like unless he left the precinct. Breaking down Kate's door and rescuing her - naked - from the bathtub was the straw that broke Jen's back. Already on scene since she came with Rick, Jen gave Kate her initial check. When the detective was giving her statement, Jen took him aside and quietly broke things off. She couldn't handle the lifestyle of a cop's girlfriend, even a pretend cop, and adding the relationship Rick had with his partner was too much.

_Too bad, Rick. She was real, and she couldn't handle you. _

Sometimes he hated his inner voice.

* * *

An elegantly cocked red eyebrow was his first greeting upon closing the loft's front door. "I gotta hand it to you, kiddo: you don't do anything by halves. That's a walk of shame to put all other walks of shame to...well…shame."

He grunted out a half-laugh as he shook off the errant raindrops falling from his jacket, the wordsmith in him impressed for the second time that evening at someone else's verbal dexterity. "And that's not even the worst part about the evening."

"Oh?" The levels of meaning his mother could put into a single word always left him a bit speechless. If the author was master of the written word, the actress was equally adept at the spoken.

"Apparently, some women don't find it very flattering when you moan another woman's name…" he trailed off, leaving the implications unuttered. While he could speak in generalities, explicitly acknowledging the evenings…explicit activities was a line he preferred not to cross when talking with his mother.

The eyebrow relaxed, replaced by an amused glint in her eyes. "You don't say?" She got up from her position on the couch and approached her son, dangling jewelry clinking in the otherwise quiet apartment, "I think it's time you finally told me why you've been so miserable the last few months, Richard."

"Miserable? I haven't been miserable," he protested, "I've been fine! There have been a few tough cases at the precinct, but I've been…"

She cut him off with a dismissive wave, "Don't. I'm not only the woman who raised you; I'm the one who taught you how to act. I know every one of your tells. The procession of dates you never see again has been very impressive, don't get me wrong, but you're obviously suffering."

The fixed stare on her face bore through all his defenses and dissimulations. Another resigned sigh blew out of his mouth as he sat down heavily in a chair. Castle rubbed his face with both hands, searching for the right words to explain the delicate situation. She took the prolonged silence to mean he was avoiding her questions. "How long are you going to wait before you ask her?"

He looked up at her at last. "It's not that simple, Mother."

"You can't know what she's going to say. Why not take the chance?" she exhorted, remembering all the times she had to encourage him to take a leap of faith as a child, wondering if the hot stove of dating had burned her son one too many times.

"That's the problem. I _do _know exactly what she's going to say," he answered.

Now both perfectly manicured eyebrows rose. "How on earth can you claim to know what's going on inside Kate Beckett's head?"

"Because I heard her say it. Please, just trust me on this and let it slide. There's nothing I can do," he said, getting up and heading to the bar for a glass of scotch. Maybe the burn would be enough to get the taste of failure out of his mouth.

Momentarily disconcerted at the way he'd shut her down, Martha pursed her lips and remained silent. After finishing his drink, Rick toasted her with the empty tumbler before setting it back on the bar and heading off to his bedroom. His mother waited until the door closed, the slump in her son's posture a reflection of the painful burden that he seemed to be carrying around these days.

_Maybe the next poker night I should take Kate aside for a little girl talk, _she mused as she headed to her own bedroom.

* * *

He had just gotten undressed when his phone warbled the distinctive ringtone he'd assigned to only one person. Not needing the confirmation, he saw Kate Beckett's smiling face staring back at him.

"Castle. To what do I owe the honor, Detective Beckett?" he forced as much false charm into his voice as possible.

It took a moment for her to respond, like she wasn't expecting the joviality in his greeting. "We've got a body. 60th and Madison, near the Columbia University Headache Center."

In the act of getting re-dressed, Castle paused, wondering whether Beckett saw the irony. When she didn't say anything, he gave a dark chuckle. "I really hope that's not an omen."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the stage I've set here. Please let me know what you thought!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Welcome back for the second installment of The Broken Road! **

**As before, Katherine Houghton Beckett performed her beta-wizardry with this chapter.**

**We're going into the first case with this chapter and the next, so I hope I get the details at least mostly-correct. I never was a criminal justice major, so if I mix something up don't hold it against me! **

**Don't own the show, don't make profits, etc. Does that even need to be said, given that this is a fanfiction website? **

* * *

The Broken Road Chapter 2

* * *

She smelled him before she saw him.

Preceded by a wall of cheap perfume, Kate's nose wrinkled as he exited the cab just outside the fluttering yellow crime scene tape. It was bad enough that she had to be reminded of his amorous conquests in every tabloid magazine she saw - some of which even hinted at her involvement with him - but to be almost literally smacked in the face with his romantic life was insulting. The awkwardness of his recent relationship with the nurse…_what the hell was her name? Jennifer?_ She wondered...had barely faded when he started his latest round of 'Rick Castle, man about town,' with a different date almost every night.

"About damn time he showed up," Beckett grumbled to Lanie, who just rolled her eyes at Kate's irritation. It wasn't worth the energy at 3 AM.

Something happened to them the previous fall when Castle came back from his Beckett-imposed exile, but neither of them ever spoke much about it. After his return, Kate was still coldly professional, but he had a serious girlfriend at the time so it didn't interrupt the team dynamic very much. Lanie remembered her surprise when she was introduced to Castle's girlfriend at his Halloween party. Being face to face with a friend from college pre-med classes but hadn't talk to since then was slightly surreal. They had both been pre-med and while Lanie went into pathology, Jennifer d'Amico chose nursing for her career, so they'd lost touch. Her relationship with Castle allowed her to reconnect with Jennifer, and as a result she was less sympathetic than usual to Kate's irrational jealousies.

In the drama and chaos of finally capturing the serial killer Scott Dunn, Jennifer decided she'd had enough of the crazy hours and danger, though Lanie knew that Castle breaking down a door to rescue a naked Kate Beckett had something to do with it as well. The nurse was never completely comfortable with how close Kate and Castle's partnership was, and as a result, Castle was single again. Since then, he would make his entrance whenever Kate called him to the scene, sometimes smelling of perfume, sometimes not, but never failing to turn Beckett's eyes a funny shade of green when he did. More than one late night girl talk session resulted with Lanie at her wit's end for how to get Kate to see that she had no right to begrudge Castle his romantic endeavors if she was unwilling to take a chance on the man herself.

This morning her ire wasn't because he was late; it had barely been twenty minutes since she called him. New York traffic meant twenty minutes to get anywhere on this side of Manhattan was a given. Kate was already anticipating the feeling of jealousy that accompanied meeting Castle at this time of night, though to his credit he always came to the crime scenes, no matter what he'd been up to beforehand. He approached closer, asking Esposito and Ryan for details on the situation. More than just perfume draped over him; Kate detected a faint hint of a feminine musky scent mixed with Castle's own aroma as her nose crinkled. '_He didn't even bother to shower this one off of him tonight?' _she thought with an internal grimace To her dismay, her nose was far from the only part of her body that reacted to Castle smelling of sex. _Thank God my jacket will cover these things, _she reflected wryly as she felt the evidence of her must have said something snarky about a detail of the case, because Castle came right back with a jab that she didn't fully hear, but his annoyed tone told her everything.

"Sorry for interrupting your evening, Castle, but do you think you can at least take a shower after you kick the next one out of bed?" As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted the lapse in control. Esposito, Ryan, and even Lanie were giving her the stink-eye after that comment.

Castle raised an eyebrow, only a valiant effort enabling him to keep the hurt at her comment from his face. Beckett was never one to back down from verbal repartee, but it was unusual for her to be that acerbic. "I'm sorry Detective. Maybe you can catch me up?" he asked, keeping his voice light to avoid setting her off again. Crime scenes had been awkward enough of late without adding to the tension.

Pursing her lips, Kate fought against the embarrassment from her verbal attack, unwilling to apologize and give him the upper hand. "Fine. Female vic, found by a guy out walking his dog. The dog started barking and whining while passing this alley. When he came down the alley, he saw the body. No ID, no wallet, no cash, just a burner cell phone."

Looking down at the unfortunate victim, Castle took in the scene. Light blonde hair that was matted and damp, though the darker roots spoke to a different natural shade. Her makeup looked slightly overdone, with smoky eye shadow that looked like it was applied by an expert, extremely long eyelashes that looked artificial, and lipstick meant to accentuate the natural coloring. She was provocatively dressed, wearing a white halter top and a pair of tight black jeans, but her shoes were missing. Looking around, one of the technicians saw his gaze and pointed at a pair of broken stilettos by the side of the building. Her finger and toenails were exquisitely cared for, looking like she had a recent manicure and pedicure.

"Do we have any idea what the cause of death was, Dr. Parrish?" Castle asked without looking directly at Lanie, still taking in the scene.

The medical examiner quirked an eyebrow. "Temperature and lividity put the time of death between ten and midnight last night. Other than that, all I have for you right now is that she was stabbed in the back, but I can't give you an idea on the specific weapon or narrow down the time of death until I get her back to the lab."

"Hmmm," he muttered as he squatted down to examine how the body was staged, "Anything at all distinctive about the scene?"

Kate smiled grimly. "Well, not exactly," she started, knowing he'd take the bait.

"Ok…what are you not telling me?" Kate was playing games over a dead body. Most nights, that would mean she was in a good mood, but after her comment earlier – _which wasn't untrue by any means_, Castle thought to himself – it seemed that she was in a mood for trouble.

Beckett pulled out a large evidence baggie. "She was found holding a copy of _Heat Wave_ open across her face." She took perverse pleasure in watching his face pale at that revelation.

After a moment spent trying to catch his breath, Castle regained enough of his composure to ask a question in return. "What page?"

She blinked, surprised at the odd question and not fully understanding his meaning. "What what now?"

"What page was the book opened to when the killer put it across her face?" he spoke slowly, as if he were trying to make himself understood to someone who didn't speak English as a first language.

That caught her by surprise. "I, uh – well, I'm not sure. Lanie?" she asked, looking for the answer.

"Page 105," the smirk on the ME's face probably could have been seen by the International Space Station as she informed Kate that the copy of Castle's first book based on her was opened to the steamy sex scene between Kate and Castle's alter egos.

It had the desired effect. Kate's blush colored her features enough to be detected in the alley's dim light. "Fine, well, it's still late, and we won't be able to get any evidence through the lab until the morning, so everyone head home once the body's in the morgue and get a few more hours of sleep before we start fresh."

The small group said little more to each other as they each processed the scene's details in their own mind, watching the technicians take possession of the various elements of the area.

* * *

At the same time as the homicide unit was processing the crime scene, a lone figure walked down a quiet side street and deposited an envelope into a mailbox. The next morning, a postal worker, unaware of his small part in the coming drama emptied the bin and took the letter to a central processing facility where a machine read the scrawl on the front and sorted it for delivery.

* * *

Castle groaned and slammed his fist down on the annoying blaring box when his alarm woke him promptly at 7 AM. After a quick shower and shave, he got dressed for the day. A deep royal blue shirt to emphasize his eyes and a charcoal suit completed the ensemble.

He left his bedroom to the sounds and smells of breakfast cooking.

"Dad! You're up early," Alexis commented from the stove as she stirred eggs in a skillet and kept an eye on a griddle with warming pancakes.

"Yeah, we caught a case late last night, so I need to head in early to get started," he said.

"Ouch. I hope the news didn't interrupt any important wallowing," she said as she flipped the pancakes over. Alexis well knew how despondent her father became in the wake of his breakup with Jennifer, but she wasn't happy about how he handled the aftermath. She didn't even want there to be aftermath; she liked Jennifer very much and was hurt when the nurse broke up with her father.

He sat down at the bar and heaved a tired sigh, smiling at his daughter as she handed a steaming mug of coffee over to him. "Actually, I met someone at a pub, and things were going well, but then something happened and I don't think I'll be seeing her again."

He tried to keep the implications of his statement as vague as possible, but Alexis was clever enough to make connections, and her disgusted grimace was confirmation enough that she understood plenty.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Anyway, I'll just get a quick breakfast and be off. What do you have planned for today?"

She slid some of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, followed quickly by a couple pancakes. The kindness in her gesture made him smile in affection. They joked about reverse parenting often enough, but truthfully Alexis took care of him more than most teenagers would have for their own parents. "I have a test in third period physics, but other than that, I have an easy day."

"Good. I'll be home later on this evening depending on how the case goes," he told his daughter in between forkfuls of the delicious breakfast.

"Oh, don't you have the book signing tonight?" Alexis asked, remembering a signing but not when.

Rick checked the calendar on his smart phone. "Nope, that's tomorrow. Oh sweet!"

"What's sweet about a signing? Usually you hate those," she commented.

"This one's at The Parlor," he grinned.

"Oh, say hi to Mrs. White for me! She always used to made the best cookies when you used to take me to the signings there," the redhead grinned at the fond memory.

He returned the smile. "Of course. Maybe she'll have some for me to take home for you."

"That would be awesome," the teenager said, then watched as the smile fell off her dad's face. She reached out for his hand. "I know you're still hurting after what happened with Jennifer, Dad. I miss having her around too, but you can't let a breakup affect your whole life. Isn't that one of the lessons you've tried to teach me?"

Castle looked at his daughter, empathy brimming in her eyes. "You're right. It's not easy, but I'll try. Thanks, Baby Bird. Say hi to Ashley for me."

His daughter rewarded him with a brilliant smile as she bounced upstairs to call her friend before school.

* * *

Promptly at 0830, Castle strolled into the precinct with more bravado than he felt. Trying to put on a brave face, he smiled a greeting to each officer he passed. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, he entered the homicide bullpen and stopped cold in his tracks. Most mornings he chose to pause for just a second and appreciate the beauty that was Katherine Beckett solving crimes. Whether she was staring at her murder board or working the phones, she was an incredible sight.

This particular morning his action was entirely involuntary. She was leaning against her desk and looking away from the elevators at her murder board deep in thought, oblivious to the world around her. A thin maroon turtleneck to ward off the still-chilly April morning hugged her chest so perfectly his breath caught in his throat and he had to bite his cheek to keep from whimpering at the sight. She stood and leaned up to write something in the upper corner of the board and this time he couldn't stop the slight moan. Dark grey pants and sky-high heels accentuated a behind so perfectly firm and rounded that it had to have been hand-sculpted by the Almighty God himself. _Oh dear merciful Christ, is she _trying _to give me a heart attack?_

He approached Kate at her murder board and silently offered her one of the coffees he'd purchased on his way in to the precinct, not trusting his voice not to crack with words.

She just nodded, still peeved from the late call, the lack of sleep, and having her nose rubbed in Castle's evening plans.

"Welcome. Do we have any updates?" he asked gently, trying to avoid provoking her any more.

She took a sip of the drink, saying silent thanks as she did every day that the man cared enough to supply her with quality caffeine. "Lanie hasn't called with anything yet. I was just working up the board. Her prints have been sent into the system, but it will be a little while before we have any response."

He nodded, letting her set the tone of the morning. After a couple minutes of silence as they contemplated what they knew thus far of the victim, he turned and gave her what he hoped was a winning smile.

She returned the smile and they both looked back to the murder board. Castle started murmuring the details out loud, getting caught up on the case. "No purse, no ID, no cell other than a cheap pay-as-you-go phone, dressed for a night out…I think I know who she was!"

"You got a name from that? Should I take you to the store to help me buy a lottery ticket too?" She kept her tone light and her face smiling to show she was teasing. After the way she lit into him at the crime scene, Kate wanted to avoid antagonizing her partner any more.

Castle turned a knowing sarcastic grin her direction. "Not a name, but I know what she does: I'll bet you dinner that she's an escort."

Just as he spoke those words, Kate's phone rang. "Seriously Castle? A hooker? You're on. It's been a while since I've been anywhere that didn't offer free refills," she answered her phone, "Beckett. Ok, we'll be right down," she turned to Castle, "Lanie has something for us. Let's head downstairs."

* * *

"Hey Lanie. What do you have for us?" Kate greeted as she breezed through the doors and into the morgue.

"And a good morning to you too," the medical examiner rejoined, noting the relaxed smile on her friend's face. _Castle must have brought her some processed sugar and caffeine after the case_, she thought. "I called you for a reason. I got a hit on the victim's prints in the system: one Tabitha Lenhard, from Queens."

Kate looked over at the woman's body laying on the autopsy table. "What was she in the system for?" Kate asked, though she was already internally rolling her eyes at Castle's likely victory dance.

"Prostitution," the one word from Lanie confirmed everything. Shaking her head, Kate turned and watched and had to suppress a smile as the writer did a happy dance at being proven right. She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was genuine, leaving Lanie surprised at the affection on her face. Kate still refused to 'feed the birds' despite Castle's pleading expression.

After a minute of watching writer and muse interact, she cut in again. "That wasn't all I found, guys."

Like flipping a switch, Castle's glee faded almost instantly. "Wha - what now?"

Lanie turned to the table behind her and grabbed a large evidence bag with _Heat Wave_ opened to a certain page.

Castle jumped in before Lanie could start her explanation. "Yeah, page 105. That's what you said down at the scene, right?"

"Right, but that's not all. Look here," she gestured to the text, "There's a series of eight random letters underlined, spread throughout the page."

Feeling slightly like a third wheel, Kate took the chance to read the letters out loud, starting at the upper left and moving down the page, "**L-E-N-F-I-K-Y-P**. What the hell?"

Castle just looked blank. "I have no idea. That makes no sense, even as an acronym. 'Let Every New Friend Into Kitchens You've Painted'?"

Staring at the page, Kate refused to pander to his inner five-year old and just shook her head. "One more puzzle or us to figure out. Did you establish cause of death or the weapon for sure?"

"All I've been able to figure out so far is that it had a serrated edge and once it was inserted, they twisted it around," Lanie pronounced the specific cause of death with a clinical detachment.

The implications hung heavy with silence over the three until Castle broke it. "Sort of like they were trying to cut out her heart?"

* * *

**A/N****: And that's Chapter 2. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Many thanks!**

**Bonus points to anyone who figures out what the letters mean! The clues are all there; it can be solved from this chapter alone. Good luck :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And here's Chapter 3! I hadn't intended on posting another update this early, but with the long delay in between Chapters 1 and 2, I thought this would be an appropriate apology for people who had to wait. I have another chapter drafted, but after that I'm not sure how regularly I'll be able to post.  
**

**Katherine Houghton Beckett lent her awesome beta skills to make this chapter so much better than it was before, so many thanks to her! **

**As always, I don't own anything remotely resembling the show, characters, or settings. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely accidental. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The Broken Road Chapter 3

* * *

Kate went to the elevators without a backward glance to see if her shadow followed. The hours immediately following the discovery of a body were the most critical. She had new information for the murder board and wanted to get everything rearranged as fast as possible.

Reaching her own floor, she was so focused on getting on with the case that she skipped the break room coffee machine. Murder was a chess game, and she was one of the best there was. The killing was the first move; while it made her wince internally to consider the victim a pawn, it was an apt metaphor. She used the information from CSU to make her opening moves. Just like in chess, making the right first moves set her up for victory.

She walked out into the bustling Homicide bullpen barely sparing a glance around her. Kate's gaze was focused on the murder board. Tabitha Lenhard deserved justice. Without breaking stride, she walked up to the board and grabbed a dry erase marker in one fluid motion. Writing Tabitha's name on the board along with the cryptic letters, she allowed the activity in the bullpen to flow around her like a stream around a rock, reveling in the familiar feeling.

After writing the name on the board, she wrote out the underlined letters. "L-E-N-F-I-K-Y-P." she whispered as she wrote the cryptic puzzle, "What the hell does that even mean? KNIFELY?"

Just as she huffed in frustration, Kevin and Javier came back. "Morning, boss. We get any breaks?" Esposito asked.

"Just the vic's name and profession. Lanie ran the prints and got a hit. She was in the system for prostitution," Kate explained.

Looking up, Esposito moved to the bag of Tabitha's possessions. "If she was an escort, I bet her service's number was in the phone; even with a burner she'd have to contact the service. I'll see what I can find."

Noticing that Ryan's attention was focused on the puzzle, Kate told him about the letters. Always ready for a riddle, Kevin pulled up a program on his computer and started running the letters through various cracking scenarios.

Kate stood back, watching her boys go to work and trying to figure out the last hours of Tabitha Lenhard's life.

* * *

Taking advantage of the rare opportunity of having Castle to herself, Lanie gestured for him to stay.

"What is it, Lanie?" he asked after the doors closed behind Kate.

For once he saw the medical examiner less than completely composed. She couldn't seem to settle, fidgeting around the lab before coming to rest against one of the examination tables. "You handled her pretty well this morning."

The confusion on his face told her he didn't understand exactly what she was talking about.

"When she tore you a new one, I mean. You shut her down and moved on and she had to scramble to respond," Lanie clarified.

Comprehension dawned. "Oh, that. It was late, we were all tired. She was just tired and not thinking - "

The ME cut him off before he could finish his excuse for Kate's behavior. "Don't. Don't write it off like that. She was a bitch, and would totally have deserved it if you had cut her down to size. It took class to let it go the way you did. Trust me, she felt bad enough about it later on."

He smiled softly; gratified that someone understood his struggles. "Thanks, Lanie. I'm not sure why she was so angry this morning."

"Really?" The levels of meaning Lanie could add to a single word would impress his own mother. The crossed arms and raised eyebrow just added to the overall effect.

Castle had to grace to look sheepish. "Ok, well I wish I had time to at least shower. I…ah…had a date last night. Kate probably just smelled her perfume."

At the mention of his romantic life, Lanie's expression softened. "I'm sorry about Jen, Castle."

He gave a dismissive wave and looked around for something to focus on other than her sympathetic brown eyes, not wanting to rehash the wounds that were still too close to the surface. "It's fine…"

"It most certainly is NOT fine, Rick Castle, and we both know that," her interruption echoed through the empty morgue, "You were invested in her. I saw the two of you together. I may understand her reasons but that doesn't mean I agree with them."

That got his attention, finally pushing him to make eye contact. "Thanks. It's been a tough rebound, but dating doesn't seem to be the answer. Ellie wasn't interested in anything more than what I could do for her career and Shannon - the woman from last night - only wanted a one night stand. I, ah, said something wrong and we got a little side-tracked."

Lanie perked right up at that. "You're about the most socially savvy person I know. What could you possibly have said that would ruin a date in the middle like that?"

He turned red and mumbled something into his shirt sleeve.

She had to laugh. "I'm sorry, the crow flies south when?"

Castle looked at her balefully. "Fine. I sort of said another woman's name while we were in the middle of…activities."

It took a heroic effort, but Lanie kept her giggles inside, though the hand over her mouth, shaking shoulders, and shining eyes gave her inner mirth away. "Do I want to know whose name that was?"

He suddenly found the tips of his shoes fascinating. "Even if you do, I really don't want to share."

She looked at his blushing avoidance of eye contact and remembered how easily he forgave Kate that morning. "Don't worry honey, you just told me everything I needed to know."

Just at that moment, the elevator dinged and Kate not quite rushed off, looking around. "There you are, Castle! I've been looking everywhere for you; even sent Ryan in to check the men's room. Come on, we have a lead - ," in mid-sentence she noticed Lanie's laughing eyes and Castle's fire-engine red countenance, "Ah, is everything ok down here?"

Predictably, Lanie was first to recover. "Things are just fine, honey. Oh and Castle? Don't give up on it yet. Just be patient," she added with an exaggerated wink, knowing how it would pique Kate's curiosity.

* * *

In the car, Kate looked at Castle out of the corner of her eye. "So, should I even bother asking what Lanie meant?"

He chuckled softly as he watched the streets zoom by. "It's just between her and I. Something we were talking about that doesn't have any bearing on the case, trust me."

She accepted the deflection with a nod. Wrestling with her guilty, jealous conscience, she swallowed her pride and turned and broke the silence, making sure her eye contact told him how sincere she was, "Listen Castle, I'm sorry about what I said this morning. The past few weeks have been rough on you, and it was out of line for me to say that."

Knowing the effort it cost her to admit the fault, he gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Kate."

She gave him a small smile. "For what it's worth, I still think Jennifer made a big mistake."

Castle looked at her, but she avoided his gaze rather than face the emotions she knew were flickering across his face. Seeing her retreat, he chose instead to ask her about the case. "So how'd we get onto the boyfriend anyway?"

Grateful for his topic shift, she launched into a recap of the investigation while he was in the morgue. "Ryan's running the financials and Esposito went back to the crime scene. CSU found the number of her agency in the contacts of her cell phone, and the cell company's records have an address, so we're headed to have a chat with the madam after we talk to her roommate. I figured you'd be excited about this trip," she offered, hoping he'd take the bait and start their banter again.

It worked. "Talking to the madam of a high-end escort service and it won't cost me a dime? Twist my arm, why don't you?" he grinned.

Just like that the tension in the car dissipated and blew off like early fog on a sunny morning.

* * *

A pretty brunette with intelligent brown eyes, Tabitha's roommate Madeline Duckler opened the door warily. She led the way to the small apartment's living area, and then sat down in a chair as Rick and Kate took a seat on the couch across a small coffee table.

"What did you say this was about, Detective Beckett?" Madeline asked.

Kate hedged, wanting to see the roommate's genuine emotional reaction. "When was the last time you saw Tabitha?"

The girl thought briefly. "It was yesterday afternoon. We had an early supper together here before she had to go out on business," she spoke the last word in a very disdainful way.

"So you were aware of her job?" Kate pressed.

"Yeah. I mean I wasn't thrilled about it, but as long as she didn't…entertain anyone here, it was like, whatever."

Her expressions gave away her age. Duckler couldn't have been older than 26, Kate judged. "Did you know when she was supposed to be back?"

"Not really. She could be gone all night or it could be a much shorter call. Look, what's this about? Did something happen to Tabitha?" Notes of fear and concern crept into her voice.

Castle hung back, letting Kate handle this most delicate of answers. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Madeline, but Tabitha was found this morning in an alley." Kate spoke the words with compassion, countless years of giving victims bad news helping, but nothing as much as the experience of being on the receiving end of the same words. She truly knew the pain of the loss she saw flicker across Madeline's eyes. What surprised her was how fast it was replaced with…nothing. Not even sadness.

"She was murdered, wasn't she?" Madeline asked calmly and quietly.

"Y-yes," Kate stammered, "how did you know that?"

Still maintaining the steely composure, Madeline held Kate's gaze. "She was a hooker, Detective. It's not exactly the world's safest profession. Even separate from that, I wouldn't be too surprised."

"Why's that?" Castle jumped in for the first time.

The brunette got up and retrieved a photo from a bookcase in the corner. "That's her ex, Scott Dryden," she said with quiet venom lacing the undertone of her voice, handing Kate the frame, "They used to fight all the time. He even hit her a few times. He hated her job, and was always trying to get her to leave. She didn't hate it as much as he did, I guess."

"What can you tell us about her family?" Castle kept up his query.

"She didn't have one," Madeline said, "Her parents died about five years ago in a car crash, she was an only child, and she never spoke about any extended family. I think I was her only real friend here in the city too. After her folks died, she became a real introvert. I guess it was her way of protecting herself."

With a tremor in her hands at the girl's words hitting so close to home, Kate put the frame down on an end table and took a breath. "I apologize, but I have to ask this question, Ms. Reynolds. Where were you last night between ten and midnight?"

She quirked a grin. "I was here with my boyfriend. When Tabitha was out on business, we took the chance to have the place to ourselves for some…recreational activities of our own."

"Ok, if you don't mind I'd like his number so we can corroborate your alibi, but in the meantime do you mind if we look in her room?" Kate asked as the group stood up.

"Not at all. I'll write out my boyfriend's information for you. Tabitha's room was down the hall on the right," Madeline gestured.

The bedroom was surprising. No photos of family or friends, Tabitha had decorated with posters of bands and movies she liked. Little else adorned the walls. The only personal touch was a small bookshelf with well-worn volumes that caught Castle's attention before anything else.

"She had taste, he muttered, "Hardy, Austen, Verne. She definitely was a fan of the classics. These books have seen a lot of use. She liked to retreat into a fictional world to avoid having to deal with her own life."

Damn but the man could speak in subtext better than anyone she knew, Kate thought. Unwilling to engage that particular line of thought with him, her own scan of the room was much shorter. "Nothing else we can use though. We can have CSU take a look at the laptop," she pointed to a closed computer on the bed, "but other than that she had almost nothing with her. No family pictures or anything."

When Madeline came in with her boyfriend's name and cell number on a slip of paper, Kate and Rick thanked her for her time and took the laptop on their way out.

* * *

The madam was a stone wall. Flanked by lawyers, she received them in a grand office and categorically refused to say anything other than that Tabitha had been one of her employees and that none of the women who worked for her were expected to engage in sex on the job. It was a perfectly legitimate business, she kept claiming.

On the way back to the car, Castle gave a mock shiver. "Is it me, or was it thirty degrees colder in that room than it is outside today?"

Kate threw open the car door and slid in with a huff. "Yeah well people in her industry tend to clam up when they see law enforcement. It didn't matter that we weren't from Vice; she saw the badge and shut the hell up. It's too bad we can't get a roster of her girls without a warrant. If we could spread the word of how little their boss is doing to help us figure out who killed one of them, it might cause a few to seek some legitimate work."

Before Castle could chime in, her phone rang. "Beckett," she growled, "Ok, what's the address? Got it, thanks, Ryan," and hung up. Meeting Castle's questioning gaze, she threw the car into reverse and headed away from the precinct. "Tabitha's financials came back with random, strange payments into the account of a guy who we've heard of before."

"Scott Dryden," Castle confirmed, but something in his tone was off.

"That's not the half of it," Kate continued, "After the boys did some digging, they found his rap sheet. Multiple priors for domestic violence and assault. Ryan said the ink hasn't even dried on the warrant yet," just then the hesitation in his voice caught up to her, "Wait, why don't you sound surer about this?"

"It's not how I would have written it," he replied after a beat, "I could buy the boyfriend if she was just found in an alley stabbed, strangled, shot, or beaten, but not with the stab wound cutting her heart out and the book with the random letters underlined. That kind of staging doesn't fit crime-of-passion."

"Life isn't always a mystery, Castle. Nine times out of ten it's the abusive boyfriend with the knife in the alley," she deadpanned, ignoring the familiar weight of her own mother's unsolved alley stabbing.

"Until it's the one time when it's Mrs. White planting the evidence," Rick shot back before falling into silence.

* * *

Kate led the way back into the bullpen, scanning for and seeing Ryan and Esposito working on various clues. Arriving at the whiteboard, she wrote the name 'Scott Dryden' under the 'Suspects' heading. After making a quick call to get his most recent mug shot, she sat back, looking at the timeline. "Guys, what have you managed to find?"

Javier went first. "I got Dryden's address and I'm working on the warrant. Should have it back in the next hour. In the meantime I'm setting up a tac team for the assault."

"Good," she acknowledged with a short nod, "Ryan?"

The Irishman ran a hand through his hair, a sure tell he was frustrated over a clue he couldn't solve. "I've run those letters through word unscramblers, cryptogram puzzlers, checked for phonetics, even looked for various anagram combinations. I can't figure out what it means, Beckett."

While the three cops talked amongst themselves, Castle stared at the letters. "Underlined from the upper left down and right throughout page 105..." he whispered, "It's a code. Guys! It's a code!"

Their conversation effectively halted by his outburst, Kate, Javier, and Ryan stared at him. "You sure about that, bro?" Esposito grunted.

"If Ryan couldn't figure it out with other puzzle-solving programs, it's got to be a code. The killer left us a message!" Despite the morbidity of the situation, Castle's giddiness was building.

Kate couldn't stop the indulgent smile that broke at his excitement. "Ok, if it's a code, what's the key?"

That stopped his rush. "Well, it's got to be something about the book itself. The letters were all underlined on page 105, so let's start with that," his train of thought was running at full speed down the track as he grabbed the notepad that he kept on Kate's desk ."I think it's a substitution cipher. Ok, start with adding the numbers. One and zero and five make six, so switch the sixth letter of the alphabet with A."

After trying to make that combination work and seeing the gibberish that came out, Kate chimed in. "What if we took it as fifteen, not six?"

They tried again, but got no closer to the answer. In the quiet that followed, Esposito's phone rang. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to the team. "Warrant just came through on Dryden."

Kate abandoned the code for the time being. "Let's roll, boys. I want to nail the son of a bitch first. Then he can tell us what the damned puzzle means."

* * *

Arriving at the dilapidated tenement listed as Scott Dryden's place of residence, Kate felt for the comforting pressure of her service weapon, then put her vest on and watched as Castle attached the Velcro snaps of his own. The giant white 'WRITER' across the chest never failed to elicit an indulgent grin, and today was no different. It had become one of her favorite moments on difficult calls, finding its way into her mental checklist before any assault. Badge? Check. Gun? Check. Vest? Check. Castle's semi-official self-purchased vest? Check and smile.

"Listen, I know this is supposedly an easy raid but this guy has a lot of violent priors, so just stay behind me, ok Castle?" she tried to get him to promise to at least try to behave. It was oddly like negotiating for good behavior from a child sometimes. The tactical team, which had participated on some of Beckett's raids in the past, was used to the good-natured ribbing between the two and exchanged smirks.

"Promise," he agreed readily enough. She turned and headed for the stairs, knowing without needing to check that Castle was right behind her. Somehow feeling his eyes squarely on the back of her jeans didn't bother her nearly as much now as it did when they first started working together.

They climbed the stairs together, the sound of the team ascending behind them magnifying the noise up the stairwell and headed to apartment 411. She took a breath and pounded on the door. "Scott Dryden? NYPD, open up!"

Through the door they heard the faint shatter of glass. When their eyes met, Kate communicated wordlessly that the tactical team leader was going to bust the door down. Castle nodded and took a step to the side. The battering ram made quick work of the aging plywood, and with her gun at the low ready, Kate moved into the apartment with feline grace, weight on the balls of her feet so she was ready to move any direction at the slightest need.

Over the blaring television, she heard thumping coming from the bedroom. She moved down the hall without hesitation. Nosing the door open with the barrel of her gun, Kate saw the tattoos on both arms before the hunched back as Scott Dryden dug under the bed. The window out to the fire escape had been broken and ancient, faded curtains blew softly in the draft. "Scott Dryden? Put your hands behind your head, now!" she commanded, keeping her eyes trained on his limbs.

He remained facing away from her, but all the tension went out of his body as he gave up. Both hands rose, one of which held a gun from the trigger guard. She'd been just in time to stop him from arming himself. "Drop the gun and get down on the floor, hands behind your head." Kate stood and watched, ready for him to try anything, but surprisingly, he complied.

Castle watched Kate as she snapped the cuffs and growled out, "You're under arrest for the murder of Tabitha Lenhard. You have the right to remain silent…" his attention faded as she went through the rest of the Miranda rights speech. Kate making an arrest was incredibly attractive, not to mention how seeing her nail a criminal never failed to inspire a Nikki Heat scene in his mind.

* * *

"You can't be fucking serious!" Kate almost shouted at Esposito as he hung up the phone on his desk.

He shook his head, feeling her frustration. The boyfriend lawyered up as soon as they had him in the interrogation room, but he gave them one phone number. After checking that the number was that of the escort service, Esposito also confirmed the boyfriend's alibi. Scott Dryden couldn't have killed his girlfriend, because he was with another girl from the same service that whole night.

Dryden's cocky smirk tore into Kate as his lawyer escorted him out of the precinct, but she resolutely refused to let him know how much it affected her. When the elevators closed behind him, she fell back against the desk closest to her murder board and stared glumly at the disparate bits of information. Feeling rather than seeing Castle's presence next to her, she decided to bite the bullet and get it over with. "Go ahead."

"I'm sorry?" he asked for clarification.

"You were right. It wasn't the boyfriend. Go ahead and say 'I told you so'," she sighed.

Castle just handed her an espresso mug from the break room, which she accepted gratefully. "Nah, I'm just as mad as you. So what happens now? We go back to the service? Talk to the roommate some more? What?"

"What happens now is I box up the information and send it down to the cold case files," she hated saying the words, feeling like they'd betrayed Tabitha somehow.

"Just like that? That's it? What about the letters and the book and…and…and…" he gesticulated wildly at the board, as if he could just conjure the answer. His surprised dismay actually made her feel just the slightest bit better, like she hadn't lost touch with real emotions after years chasing after the worst society had to offer.

"Nothing else we can do, Castle. Tabitha's death is tragic, but in the end she's a dead hooker with no family and no close friends. All our leads have come up empty. We'll keep it open and look at it every so often, but it will most likely go cold." With that final pronouncement, her shoulders finally slumped over.

He stared at the board, willing it to tell him its secrets but it proved to be a futile exercise and he exhaled forcefully in defeat. "Well that sucks."

Kate nodded wryly. "Yeah, yeah it does. Believe me I want to find her some justice, but I can either spin my wheels on this case, getting nowhere, or I can send this to storage and focus on the cases I can solve. You can't win them all. Sometimes you just have to put it aside and move on."

There were several layers to that last sentence, and the writer knew he would spend most of the evening puzzling them all out. He sighed again as he grabbed his coat. "Well, I should head out. I have somewhere to be."

That got Kate's attention. "Got another hot date, Castle?" She tried to appear cavalier but wasn't able to eliminate the slight tremor from her tone.

"As a matter of fact, there is a stunningly beautiful red head awaiting my arrival as we speak," he retorted in grand style.

Kate opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

He took pity on her. "Alexis, Kate. I meant Alexis."

She smiled, hoping her relief wasn't too evident.

On his way out, he remembered something he wanted to ask her earlier, "Oh, are you going to come to the book signing tomorrow?"

She tilted her head to the, vaguely remembering his phone conversation with Paula. He'd been practically brimming over with excitement. "Um, probably not. Where's this one?"

"The Parlor, a bookstore specializing in mysteries. I've had signings there ever since the first Derrick Storm book came out. Edith White has run the place since the 70s and knows the genre better than I do. She'd love to have Nikki Heat in residence for the signing," he pleaded.

"Sorry, Castle. I have plans with my dad that night," she hedged. Nothing short of a direct order from the Commissioner could get her to spend the evening at a book signing with Castle. Too much publicity for her tastes.

Knowing it was most likely a fruitless endeavor, his disappointment was short-lived. "Suit yourself. The invitation's there if you change your mind. Until tomorrow, detective."

"Night, Castle," she answered, knowing that he also knew she'd be there another hour at least before giving up fully.

* * *

His daughter well ensconced with her homework and his mother still out and about, Castle decided the siren song of his bed was too strong to resist any longer. Showered, shaved, and in clean pajamas, he closed the door of his bathroom with a sigh. He fell on his bed, hoping that for once the dreams of the last few months would let him sleep in peace.

* * *

**A/N: Don't worry about the unsolved murder; this is a long story, and all problems will be resolved by the end, I promise!**

**Reviews are always appreciated. I'd love to hear what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Greetings! I'm back again with Chapter 4. **

**As usual, Katherine Houghton Beckett's beta skills are the only reason this is remotely recognizable as English, so many thanks go to her! **

**Insert standard disclaimer of non-ownership of Castle or anything related to it here.**

**This chapter starts a multi-chapter flashback to the beginning of Season 2. This chapter covers episode 2.1  
**

** I wanted to delve a little more into Kate's thoughts at Castle's return, especially if just a little bit of his behavior was different. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The Broken Road Chapter 2

Flashback to episode 2.1

September 21, 2009

* * *

_Seriously? This is how he comes back into MY bullpen? Bambi and Candy fresh from the pole dancing stage and Cosmopolitan magazine?_

The last time Kate Beckett could remember being this angry in her own precinct, coincidentally enough, was just after the last time he was here; just after he told her that he betrayed her; just after she felt her attraction to the ruggedly handsome author growing strong enough to try to do something about it, old boyfriends be damned.

Then he had to go and fuck it up.

Intellectually, she knew from his protestations that he started the investigation before she told him not to. Realistically, she knew that he was trying to offer her more help with the great problem of her life, not that she wanted any more help. She just couldn't get past it. Almost losing her father to booze and herself down the rabbit hole of her mother's murder ensured that no matter how good his intentions were, she didn't have to forgive him for poking his nose into the case uninvited.

She didn't want to forgive him.

Still too proud to give in and use the somewhat intimidating espresso machine he donated, she was sitting in the homicide bullpen drinking the sub-par coffee - the infamous 'monkey pee in battery acid' of his own terminology - that came out of their old machine in her old, favorite green ceramic mug. Kate made a valiant, sometimes unsuccessful attempt to hide her disdain while she watched him strut with the models who looked little better than strippers. They were even dressed in the slutty cop 'uniforms' common to strip clubs…not that she would know anything about that. Not for the first time did Kate curse her time in Vice before making Homicide. Her lip curled even further as she watched them writhe all over him, groping him in a way that would be considered indecent just about anywhere. _Bastard is probably enjoying this,_ she thought with a barely-concealed sneer, _Oh well, better get back to this airhead in front of me to get the interview over._

Just as Kate was about to turn away, she saw something she wasn't expecting. One of the first things she ever learned about Rick Castle from watching him while they worked together was that his eyes were the key to assessing his emotional state. His poker face was first-rate, but his eyes gave him away every time. After a few months with him, she could read his every emotion almost instantly, an ability she refused to act on for fear of him realizing it and working to keep it from her somehow.

Despite the happy grin currently gracing his face, he wasn't happy. She was surprised enough to keep her attention on him longer than she originally intended. The eyes that she grudgingly came to admit were a beautiful shade of blue had none of their usual sparkle. After another moment of watching him, she changed her mind. Castle's eyes sparkled when he looked in her direction. And wasn't _that _just a complicated thought for this morning.

With another grumble, she tore her eyes from the spectacle in front of her and tried to focus on the reporter from Cosmo. The whole thing was a giant pain in her ass, but she had to deal with it. Kate answered the gossip rag journalist's questions as shallowly as possible, giving the woman just enough information to feel like she had a story but not enough to really think she understood Detective Katherine Beckett.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Castle shake off the bimbos as his phone rang. She stopped mid-sentence in an answer to one of the writer's questions. After he checked the caller ID, he got a goofy grin on his face and walked off to the break room, gesticulating wildly the whole way.

_Well that's certainly new,_ she thought. In the year that they'd worked together before she kicked him out, Castle had taken calls at the most inopportune times, but for a call to put that kind of a smile on his face, the caller was usually red-headed and related by blood. He never left her presence to take those calls either, so the behavior was something out of the ordinary.

She shook her head, hoping the motion would clear her mind of her musings. Kate put on a smile that approximately three - _ok fine, four with Castle_, she admitted to herself with less reluctance than she would have imagined - people in the entire precinct would have been able to tell was fake. The annoying way he could read her like one of his books meant that none of her usual defenses worked on him.

The woman interviewing her absolutely could not tell it was a phony smile, so the interview continued without interruption. Her answers to each and every question were essentially variations of the same: "No, I'm not Nikki Heat. No, it's not a biography. Yes, the book is just loosely based on me. No, I'm actually far more boring in real life."

What surprised her more than anything else so far was how her eyes kept flicking back to Castle, trying to see him in the break room and waiting for his reappearance in the bullpen. A childhood crush, nurtured over time with more novels and more interviews in various magazines and on television, only grew with a year working with him and getting to know him outside his public persona. Seeing him as a father to his truly wonderful daughter only made him more attractive.

Just then the reporter said something that brought her out of her Castle reverie. Somehow the woman had gotten the delusion that Castle was more instrumental than he really was. "Really? You were told that? By who?"

"By Castle," she grinned back her answer, before looking confused as Kate almost raced out of her chair to corner the Captain who authorized the interview.

After making her case to Montgomery and getting shown the door with her tail between her legs, Kate decided to get some more of the monkey pee in battery acid, _Damn it all, now I'm even using his phrases!_ before finally finishing off the interview.

* * *

_Damn you Roy Montgomery,_ Kate grumbled as they went to the crime scene. She had intended to make Castle ride with Ryan and Esposito, but somehow he managed to worm his way into her car under the not wholly unappreciated guise of saving her from dealing with the Cosmo reporter.

She closed the door and buckled her seat belt with every intention of ignoring him completely for the ride, but it was an impossible task. He knew her well enough to try to maintain silence, but even his breathing patterns drew her attention. Every time she wrenched her focus back to the road and traffic, he would sigh or shift and her traitorous brain shifted her attention right back to the man in the passenger seat.

Kate found herself looking out of the corner of her eye at the lines of his face, the crinkles around his eyes, and the way he held his head. In the months since she kicked him out of the precinct, she had to admit she missed the man. Investigating her mother's case behind her back absolutely merited banishment, but the year they worked together was a lot more fun that she would have admitted when they started the Tisdale case. He was fun. Somehow, investigating murders with Rick Castle could lead to discussions on the merits of different ice cream flavors, insane theories that forced her mind to examine alternate possibilities, or expositions on grammatical subtleties.

Oh, and he really was ruggedly handsome.

More than once during their time apart did Kate find her nighttime fantasies going back to his blue eyes. More than once did she find herself climaxing to his name on her lips, lost in the sweaty darkness. She hated the hold he apparently had over her, but at the same time she couldn't shake the attraction either. He brought fresh air into a life that desperately needed it. Despite herself, she couldn't shake the feeling that a piece of a very complicated puzzle just slid back into place, but she wasn't willing to allow that feeling free reign either. The memory of his betrayal and the freshly reopened wounds from her mother's case were too close to the surface to ignore. _Just get through this case, Kate. Maybe not even the whole thing, either. Maybe I can kick him out again after this initial scan when Cosmo has what she needs, then I can go back to trying to ignore him._

Just as she was shifting her attention back to the road once more, his phone rang. She watched as he checked the caller ID again, noting that his face softened into the same happy expression he wore in the precinct before he answered. As the call went on, his face fell more and more. "Castle…oh, ok…no don't worry about it…sure, we can do that another time…yeah, getting called in is a good excuse, don't worry…tomorrow works for me too, depending on how this case goes…I'll call you…ok, talk to you later," and ended the call with a sigh.

_Maybe I can get some kind of idea of what's been going on with him the last few months. I know he wants to come back, but do I want him back?_

Kate cleared her throat anxiously. "Ah, Alexis?" she asked, hating the nervousness in her voice at reaching out to him first.

That finally brought his attention to her. Castle regarded her curiously for a brief moment before quietly responding, "No, it wasn't Alexis."

Nothing else. The man who could and would talk the ears off a mule maintained a stubborn silence rather than engage her in conversation. Either he was still nervous around her after being kicked out for months and only allowed back grudgingly for positive press or he was angry at the way she shut him down in the precinct, acting for all the world like she wanted less than nothing to do with him.

She sighed again. "Do you mind if I ask who it was?"

Rather than give her an answer, he kept staring at her, this time with a raised eyebrow. When he answered, it was slow and hesitant, as if he was weighing every word for its impact. "Are we at a place where we can share information about each other's personal lives again? If you're only putting up with me right now because of the gossip rag and Montgomery, I'd honestly rather not."

For him to voice that concern brought her back full circle. She had no answer, but luckily enough, they were at the crime scene. "Yeah, you're right, Castle. Forget I said anything."

* * *

Damn his perceptiveness. Damn his intelligence. And damned if he didn't step all over her toes during the initial crime scene sweep, answering the reporter - she kept using that word even though she knew the Cosmo employee was as far from being an actual reporter as could be - when she asked why he knew it wasn't a suicide. His answer was more succinct and better-phrased than she could have managed by herself, too.

Damn him and his sexiness anyway. He tried to use the minute amount of tolerance he thought he'd earned with her to stay and work the case, but she wanted none of that. After the conflicting feelings of anger and attraction from the car ride, she absolutely had to have some time to herself to work out exactly what her real feelings were regarding Castle.

Kate watched with some satisfaction as he grudgingly walked over to the 'morgue-mobile' as he termed it in an attempt to save face with the reporter. The fact that he was willing to follow her wishes and not partake in any of the crime scene processing spoke volumes about his desire to get back in her good graces.

She snorted. He should be so lucky. Once wronged, Kate Beckett knew how to hold onto a grudge. Thirteen years of chasing down the truth behind her mother's murder - the same problem he had to go stick his nose in - taught her that much. She just needed to get this case underway and then Rick Castle could go back to his glitterati and his parties and his bimbos.

* * *

Alone with his thoughts, Castle sat in the back of the morgue transporter. By this point, even the victim was more company than the medical examiner currently freezing him out in the name of female solidarity.

He was used to being able to read Kate like one of his own books, but somehow in the months since she banished him from the precinct she had developed the ability to confuse him. Just that evening she alternated between wanting to know what was going on in his personal life when his phone rang to anger at his nosing into her mother's case so frequently it left his head spinning.

The anger was unsurprising, and truth be told, he was expecting to be thrown out on his ass the nanosecond the photo shoot was over, especially when the strippers were done 'modeling' with him. He could sense Kate's outrage from across the bullpen. _What's worse is that it wasn't even my idea. Gina came up with that wonderful little bit of inspiration, and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to get a rise out of Kate. _He hadn't factored in Kate's stubbornness, however. Rather than get upset over what happened, she escaped the situation and left him to the women she probably figured he wanted and deserved.

The body drop was lucky, if a murder could ever be considered in positive terms. It gave him an excuse to stick closer to Kate for a little longer. _Thank God for that nosy reporter,_ he thought to himself, _If she hadn't insisted on riding along, Kate would have had me escorted out of the building without helping on the case. _It took some quick thinking on his part, but sloughing the reporter off onto Esposito and Ryan to allow himself the space to ride with Kate was a chance well worth taking.

It didn't look like that in the beginning, however. He'd been in snowstorms that were less frosty than the inside of that squad car. The silence was indeed deafening, until Jennifer called. The first time Jen called when he was in the middle of his photo shoot, it was the perfect excuse to take a break from the strippers. Kate might think he was in his element with them but in reality they made his skin crawl. He'd never been one to go to 'gentlemen's clubs' - a misnomer if he ever heard one - with the boys from his college days, and nothing had changed in the intervening years.

The soothing sound of her voice was the summer sun burning off the morning fog of his tension. As soon as he had some privacy, his shoulders slumped in relief at the simple luxury of being able to unburden himself to a sympathetic voice. Her compassion was unmatched, and when she heard the stress behind his voice she jumped in with a humorous story from her day. She always knew when he needed a distraction and when he needed to focus on her instead of himself. After learning of his career, all she said was to be up front and tell her when he needed some time to write rather than just disappearing. Her sensitivity was one of the things that he loved about her.

One of the things that he loved about her. After four months, he was prepared to admit that he loved her. He wasn't sure if he was 'in love with' her yet, but given time, Castle thought he could really get there. Jennifer D'Amico was completely different than any woman he'd ever dated, and the change was refreshing.

She knew why he wasn't working with the police over the summer, or at least the highlights. He wasn't willing to betray Kate's privacy again by spilling the details to a third party. All Jen knew was that he shadowed an NYPD Homicide detective, put his foot squarely in his mouth, and was subsequently banished from her presence.

The second call was tougher. She got called in for a tough case and had to cancel on the romantic evening he'd called in a favor to set up for her. It was their three-month anniversary. He was romantic but not obsessively so, celebrating quarter- and half-years instead of every month. Still, reservations on opening night at one of the city's trendy Asian fusion restaurants were tough to come by.

That call started the thaw between himself and Kate, which was impressive in and of itself because the iciness coming from the driver's seat was thick enough that the _Titanic_ herself would have had a bad night. Apparently tired of freezing him out, or just bored with the evening and looking for any kind of diversion, Kate asked about the call. He still wasn't sure if his response was the best of ideas, but he wanted to throw down something of a gauntlet. If she wanted to ask about his personal life after cutting him out of hers, she better be damn well ready to reciprocate, and the way she'd begrudgingly allowed him to go with her gave him doubts. Taking a page from the Kate Beckett manual of self-preservation, he refused to give her any information that she wasn't ready to share from her own life.

He made the right call at the time. If Kate wasn't going to let him back in, she didn't need to know about Jen, and she didn't appear to be ready to let him back in. His challenge to her inquiry shut down that particular interest.

He shut up and allowed the oppressive silence to fill in the gaps again.

* * *

As it turned out, Castle's return to investigation didn't even make the top five craziest things to happen that day. Having a body thrown out of a building only to land in a tree, that was strangled first, then stolen out of the morgue vehicle by masked gunmen on the same day as strippers modeled as cops for a photo shoot in her own precinct made for the craziest day in Kate's recent memory.

Without the body, they had little to really go on other than the victim's name and identification from earlier. Despite her urge to get Castle out of the precinct as soon as possible now that the press conference was over, which she declared fully with "As much as we all appreciate your insightful and incredibly believable theories, Ms. Cosmo is gone, so I believe you can go home now," he managed to stick his foot out and prevent that door from fully closing by proclaiming his status as a witness in front of Montgomery. The same Captain Roy Montgomery who wanted good press for the NYPD so badly he again forced her to accept Castle's presence.

It bore repeating. _Damn him. _It didn't even matter which of the two men she was busy cursing. Either of them would work.

Just when she thought she was going to get her peace and quiet to solve the case, he had to go and fuck it up again. _Why does Richard Castle delight in screwing up my perfectly ordered life? _

Her acceptance of his return had absolutely nothing to do with the shivers down her spine that each and every moment of eye contact with his devastatingly blue eyes.

Nothing at all.

_Damn him._

* * *

He tested her willingness to reopen the lines of partnership - if not actual friendship - again in the elevator going down from the newly-informed widow's apartment. _Following her anywhere has at least one real advantage, especially in _those _jeans, _he thought as he watched her lead the way, mostly succeeding in his heroic effort not to drool over her swaying hips that preceded him onto the elevator. Mostly. Following Kate's lead into the elevator, he took up a position against the back of the car next to her, with his arms similarly folded.

Standing close to her and imitating her stance was a calculated risk, and it backfired. When she realized how close he was standing, she stood upright and moved to the front of the elevator to put literal distance between them, echoing the metaphorical distance.

_Keep at it, Rick. She can't cut you out forever._

* * *

The phrase was becoming a refrain. _Damn him!_

He was fully integrated into the investigation, even going as far as tagging along to the morgue when Kate went to follow up on her notion of taking a fingerprint from the inside of the latex glove. She needed the time to regroup with Lanie and didn't appreciate the third wheel rolling along behind her.

Lanie was professional, almost coldly so, when they entered with her request. A raised eyebrow was the only direct response she gave, but she set up her equipment without a protest. Kate was grateful for the professional treatment, which allowed her some space to process everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

When the print was lifted, Kate sent Castle back up to the boys with the physical print so they could get it into the system, using that as an excuse to finally chat with Lanie.

That chat didn't start well. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, all of Lanie's attention was back on her and it wasn't good. The glare Lanie sent her way would have curdled milk, and Kate thought she knew what the real cause of her friend's ire was.

"I'm sorry for sending him back with you. I just had to get him away from the crime scene so he wouldn't keep poking around, you know?" she tried.

"Mmhmm, that's a good start, Kate. You want to keep going?" Lanie's voice matched her glare.

"What are you talking about?" Kate couldn't figure out why her friend seemed to be so irritated with her.

"I'm talking about something Writer Boy spilled in the inside of the bus," Lanie shot back, the eyebrow firmly fixed in place..

Kate rolled her eyes, hoping her friend didn't think the gesture was about her. "Something he spilled? What, like equipment or something?"

Now the arms were folded and Lanie was imitating a Beckett-glare. "No…I mean information. You never told me he found something when you got mad at him a few months ago. You just told me that he looked into your mother's case against your wishes."

Contrition washed across her face, hiding her inner anger at Castle's attempts to get back in her good graces by charming her best friend. "I'm sorry. At the time I didn't think it was important because I didn't even let him tell me what he found. I was just so mad at him that I shut him down."

Unsure whether to be angry or proud, Lanie settled for sympathetic. "Oh honey. That took a lot of courage. I'm proud of you for letting it go and not going down that rabbit hole again. I wish you would have at least told me he found something though."

Kate gave her friend a soft smile. "I should have confided in you. I'm sorry, Lanie."

Lanie's stern visage finally relaxed. "No worries, honey. Just remember, we're all here for you. None of us is going to let you get lost in that case if you decide to see what Castle found. Ryan, Esposito, me, and you better believe Castle himself are all going to be here to keep you sane."

The only response Kate could give her friend was a warm smile and firm hug.

* * *

"Him a cop? Don't make me laugh! He' s barely even a man," sounded a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Beckett's voice complete with a nearly perfect Russian accent as she strolled in to save him threw Castle for a loop.

"Beckett?" _Oh dear God. _

Black top. Miniskirt. A bra the color of blood. _Holy shit she's hot_. Knees already wobbly from Kate's timely rescue went completely slack when he saw her. The double-take was TV-worthy. His mouth went totally dry a nanosecond later, and for the briefest moment, he felt his heart skip a beat. _I always thought that was a metaphor, never literal_, he thought randomly while most of his brain stopped its conscious functioning. He even forgot the gun pointed at his heart as he stared at his gorgeous rescuer.

Then Badass Kate came out to play. If he thought she was hot before, watching her take down of a Russian mobster so effortlessly she didn't even break a sweat put all his previous impressions of her to shame. _She really is a Valkyrie._

Then she had to go and say it. "Castle, could you get some backup please?"

It was more the _way _she said it than anything else. He was a writer, paid handsomely for his overactive imagination, so in reality, he couldn't be blamed for her forceful, determined tone causing his mind to flash immediately to a much different situation. She was still bent over a table, but instead of asking him to get backup, she told him to put his back into it. _Oh dear God save me. _

The image immediately vanished in the face of their current situation, where she had a dangerous mobster partially restrained and he was still in a relationship with another woman.

"Yeah, yeah. Backup. Right," was the full extent of his capability to respond in that moment.

Crisis averted. Bad guy caught. Murder solved.

It was a tossup as to whether the bra, the miniskirt, or the look in her eyes was most indelibly burned into his memory. He was in serious trouble.

* * *

Back at the precinct, he watched across the bullpen as Kate strolled in. _This is it, Ricky. Last chance to convince her to let you stay. _It would be easy to assume that he wanted to stay on working with Kate because he was attracted to her - he was, but given their past he wasn't mistaking her feelings - but with Jennifer, the real reasons he wanted to stay at the precinct went deeper. He had to make the last summer and their separation up to her.

Castle knew that what he did hurt her, and even though he started the events in motion before her specific prohibition on the case, he still wanted to make that right. He also wanted to stay because he enjoyed working with her intellectually. Something about figuring out real-world murder mysteries had a more tangible satisfaction than plotting them out and writing them down in his books.

Following along with Kate had its own advantages. She was brilliant in the way she approached cases, tenacious to a fault, and she wasn't impressed by his wealth or his celebrity; she challenged him, pure and simple. He teased her and she hit right back. Other than his mother and daughter, she was the one woman who gave as good as she got that he felt was worth the trouble, especially since he wasn't explicitly trying to date her at this point. Their interplay was founded more out of respect and friendship than romance.

She was getting closer. He shook himself clear of his musings and took a deep breath, trying to focus. Everything was riding on this conversation.

They started well, with some of their usual repartee, joking about how their partnership was reminiscent of Turner and Hooch, and he relaxed minutely, hope growing that they could move past the hurt and truly become friends.

Then the little writer voice inside him that always had to know each and every last, miniscule detail overrode his brain-to-mouth filter. It was almost like an out of body experience, as if he were floating above himself, watching some idiot in a suit poke the bear one last time, arrogantly challenging her to deny what he thought her reasons for not wanting to know what his connections found about her mother's case. His phantom self screamed to stop but the idiot in the chair wasn't listening to anything but the sound of his own voice.

She reacted exactly as he should have known he would, shooting all the reasons why she wasn't mentally or emotionally ready to catch her mother's killer like bullets out of a Gatling gun, leaving him verbally cut in half on the bullpen floor. When she finished with "We made a deal, and I expect you to honor it," in the clear, level, determined voice of someone whose innate sense of decorum was the only thing keeping her from having him escorted bodily from the precinct by the two burliest uniforms she could think of, he knew it was done.

He left without another word.

* * *

God bless his daughter.

Alexis was wiser than himself in so many ways. The way she complained about her boyfriend Owen, wondering why he couldn't just apologize for being a jerk, admit he was wrong, and make it up to her, made it all fall into place. Instead of his wonderful daughter, he saw the brown hair and coffee-toned eyes of Kate Beckett, wondering to someone - probably Lanie - why the cocky writer couldn't just apologize for what he did, why he had to be right, had to have the last word, and had to have everyone recognize it.

_That's what I have to do. Damn my own inferiority complex. I'm so sorry, Kate._

* * *

He found her exactly where he expected: still sitting at her desk, powering through the endless paperwork that accompanied arresting a killer.

She didn't acknowledge his presence with anything other than a stilling of her hands, refusing to grant him the respect of eye contact until his silence told her he wanted to say something important.

"I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I violated your trust. I opened old wounds, and I did not respect your wishes. And if we're not going to see each other again than you deserve to know: I'm very, very sorry." The apology he'd wracked his brain to compose on the trip back to the precinct tumbled from his lips exactly as he'd intended. Simple. Sincere. Heartfelt. Not pressing for anything beyond the admission of fault and the hope that she understood.

"Castle? See you tomorrow." With just that simple act of forgiveness, Kate lifted the enormous weight of his sin from his shoulders. Not wanting to sully the moment with extraneous chatter, he nodded his acknowledgement of her action and turned to leave.

Just as he left the precinct area, the specific ringtone he assigned to Jen warbled from his suit pocket. The grin on his face was genuine and carefree as he answered. "Jennifer? That's right, the case is over. I'd love to meet for dinner tonight. Seven o'clock? Great!" and he hung up just as he got into the elevator.

The closing doors blocked his view of a confused, intrigued Kate Beckett mouthing the word "Jennifer?" silently.

* * *

**A/N:** **And there we go. I hope you liked it! I may have written Kate as too harsh, but I've always thought she was more irritated at Castle's immediate return than the show depicted. **

**Next chapter we'll get more and more into Castle's new relationship and Kate's confusion at his new demeanor. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: What else can I do but apologize for the ridiculous delay between chapters? It seems like it's been ages since I updated this story last, and I sincerely thank everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, or sent me messages after the last chapter. There were any number of issues with this chapter, including a complete re-write, and then trying to contact the beta just led to more delays. I am so incredibly sorry for the delay; your forbearance is more than appreciated!  
**

**Chapter 5 spans the events of Season 2, Episodes 2 and 3 (The Double Down and Inventing the Girl, respectively), so where the story shifts episodes I'll note it to avoid confusion. **

**This chapter is not officially beta-approved, but I have had it looked at, so the grammar should hopefully be up to snuff. **

**Once again, I do apologize for the break. I can only promise you that it won't take me that long again to update. This story is entirely outlined out, so I know what will happen and when. I will not leave this story unfinished. Chapter 6 just needs editing and Chapter 7 is almost drafted, so we're well on the way.  
**

**As usual, I don't own the show, characters, or settings. Any resemblance to any events or people is entirely accidental. **

* * *

**Chapter 5  
**

**Tag to episode 2.2: "The Double Down"**

Kate noticed more of Castle's strange behavior early in their next case. He'd been entertained amid the chaos of a police precinct during a full moon. While it had initially been annoying, she had to admit that the theatrical touch of popping popcorn to sit back and watch the craziness put a humorous touch on a night that would have otherwise driven her to distraction. It would never be something she would actually do, but the same thought had occurred to her more than once. She found herself squelching a snarky remark at how easily his attention fixated onto the half-naked woman who had landed on her desk in the middle of a fight, but the way the woman filled out the neon pink bra that ended up across her paperwork, Kate supposed she couldn't exactly blame a healthy male for noticing.

Then the call came in, and they were on their way to the office of an unfortunate couple's therapist who met her death in a hail of bullets. They'd only been on the scene long enough to learn the initial details of Ashley Causeway's death before the Medical Examiner arrived. Lanie had been called in from a night out and she was loaded for bear. Both barrels, so to speak. The mauve halter top dress fit her like a glove.

"Dr. Parrish," Kate greeted before giving her friend some gentle teasing, "When did they change the dress code downtown?"

"Well unlike you, I don't sit around work all night waiting for the next vic to show. Quit looking at the girls, Castle." Lanie could sass with the best and knew where the famously womanizing writer's gaze was most likely resting.

When there was no response other than an unintelligible murmur, Kate turned to look at her shadow, but he was occupied with reading the poorly-written threats on the victim's face. She turned in surprise to Lanie, but neither of them had any explanation for why he wasn't ogling. Lanie shot Kate a questioning look and she nodded back, wordlessly agreeing to discuss Castle's odd behavior later.

After their initial examination, Kate noticed that he was more distracted than usual, focusing on the grammar written on the victim's face instead of the details of the case. She could see he tried to hide it, but the little tugs at the corners of his mouth refused to be denied.

"Something funny about this murder, Castle?" she growled, trying to throw him off just a little for a reaction.

"Oh, sorry Beckett. I was just thinking that it's a shame this couple's therapist won't get to help repair any more troubled relationships. I'm sure she was the cause of a lot of people rediscovering their own romantic happiness. That made me think about...this woman I'm seeing, which made me smile," he rambled, trying not to set her off with non-crime scene appropriate comments.

A dubious "Uh huh," and a cocked eyebrow were her only replies. Definitely something she needed to talk about with Lanie.

* * *

Whatever was off with him, at least he kept to the routines they'd established over the previous year. Castle somehow managed to keep her supplied with premium caffeine whether it was in a to-go paper cup or her favorite mug. Over time, it was slowly becoming their ritual, to the point where her mood worsened if he was absent in the morning and she had to get her own coffee. It was silly to have so much of her day dependent on something he provided, but the transition was slow enough that she didn't notice it happening.

When she did notice, she realized she didn't want to change it. Seeing the look on his face as he handed her the coffee - in whatever form - made her secretly happy, so much so that she shrugged off the urge to keep him at a distance.

* * *

The strange double murder kept everyone running in circles. Even the academy textbooks didn't have case studies where unrelated murderers killed each other's victims, creating alibis for their own involvement. Once Kate was able to breathe she finally found the time to have a long overdue girl's night chat with Lanie. Getting the confession ran so late into the day that instead of hitting up their usual club, they settled for a night in with wine and pizza.

"So what was going on with Writer Boy this case? I've never seen him so distracted. Oh and that was decent of you to let him start shadowing you again, by the way," Lanie asked as she uncorked the bottle of Merlot she'd brought to her friend's apartment.

Kate just shook her head as she set out two glasses and got some paper plates which she loaded up with their greasy dinner. "I'm not sure. He kept getting these calls in the middle of the case that he left to take, and on his way out after the case was over I heard him talking to someone named Jennifer."

Lanie pursed her lips as she considered the chain of events. "Jennifer, hm?" She poured the wine as she thought some more.

"Yeah...it was more than that though. It was almost like he was happy. When he was following me last year I saw him excited plenty of times. He would get giddy, almost like a kid on the way to the zoo. This time, something else was there. He was just...I don't know, happy is the best way to describe it," Kate described her impressions as coherently as she could, but a more accurate adjective eluded her. Castle was the man of easy words in their partnership; he would have been able to come up with a list of words that would have fit. She was stuck on 'happy'.

Walking over to Kate's couch, Lanie set the glasses in front of them before accepting a plate of the cheesy goodness. "Thanks. Seems to me that for a detective, you're sure missing the big picture, Kate." At Beckett's raised eyebrows, she nodded, "Your boy got himself a girlfriend."

Kate almost choked on her pizza. After regaining her composure she considered Lanie's point. "You're right. I never expected a Page Six playboy to be apparently seeing one woman for so long but you're right."

Lanie sat back, silently munching on a slice of pepperoni and waited for Kate's reaction.

The detective wiped her hands on a napkin and took a sip of wine as she contemplated the new idea. "Well. Good for him, I guess."

A dubious "Mm-hmm," was Lanie's only reply. She'd known Kate Beckett long enough to understand that pushing her into acknowledging real thoughts, emotions, and feelings was guaranteed to get her to run in the opposite direction.

* * *

**Tag to episode 2.3: Inventing the Girl**

Girlfriend or not, the fact that Castle was worried enough about her being upset the entire time they were trying to solve the model's murder that he agreed to let her read the advance copy of _Heat Wave_ gave Kate a guilty thrill. Even if he wasn't actively pursuing her, he cared enough to go out of his way to appease her feelings. It was the gesture of a friend, if not a possible suitor.

She settled into the bathtub with her wine and candles, ready to sink once more into the vivid imagination of Richard Castle.

* * *

"Good evening, my dears!" Martha made her grand entrance to share the news about her upgraded role in her new play.

Castle was behind the stove preparing some tapas and other finger foods for Alexis's evening in while his daughter sat behind the breakfast bar, offering her input on spice blends for maximum flavor. Cooking was one of his favorite hobbies, so he made sure his daughter learned to cook at an early age so they could spend time together creating their meals. She and his mother still rolled their eyes at his off-the-wall concoctions, but even the maligned 'Smorelet had its roots in their cooking sessions. Brainstorming and coming up with fun new ways to make traditional dishes was one of the best aspects of family cooking time.

When Martha informed them of the producer's new offer of an on-stage death which closed out an act rather than the character's previously off-stage demise, the excitement was palpable. Alexis was genuinely happy for her grandmother's success, which almost brought a tear to Castle's eye as he watched them embrace. More than just intelligence and drive, one of the things he'd spent the most time instilling into his daughter was her warmth.

His own joy was multi-faceted. Not only did his mother have a role she was excited about, the added time she'd be out of the house was a bonus. Inviting his mother to live with him after her ex-husband swindled her for every cent she had was never something he regretted, but her presence could be a tad overwhelming at times.

Then there was a knock at the door. "That would be Rina," he explained.

"Oh yes, your date," she remembered, with the slightly disapproving tone only a mother can take when she thinks her son is dating a model.

"Not my date," was his only explanation as the girls squealed at the door and confirmed their _High School Musical _marathon plans for the evening. His mother's surprise manifested in the raised eyebrow she shot his way. _That look of surprise was worth the fleeting doubts she had about my character,_ he thought with a grin.

"Hey Rina," he greeted with a wave.

"Hi, Mr. Castle!" she greeted with an ear-to-ear smile of her own.

He explained the new situation as the girls went upstairs to drop Rina's bag and shoes off in Alexis' room before heading back down for the snacks. "Color me shocked, but apparently the modeling world isn't all sex, clothes, and fun parties. It occurred to me that if Jenna McBoyd had had someone looking out for her a little bit, she might still be alive today. So, if Rina needs a friend, she knows she's got one," Castle finished, picking up a water bottle and taking a sip.

"Oh my son, the big softie," she said and tweaked his cheek. She chuckled at his irritated expression. "Don't worry, Richard. I know you have an image to protect. Your secret is safe with me."

"What secret?" Alexis asked as she and Rina came back downstairs, "Does it have anything to do with Dad's new girlfriend?"

"My what?" he almost did a spit-take at her perceptiveness. As accustomed to her quick wit as he was, she still managed to surprise him with what she saw and understood of events around her.

"Well, you're wearing a tie that matches your eyes and you just reapplied fresh cologne before we started making the tapas. Usually, that means you have plans, and it's the fourth or fifth time I've seen you do that recently. Thus: date," Alexis concluded with a flourish that Kate Beckett would have admired.

"I have trained you well, grasshopper. I was once the master, but now it appears I am the student." He bowed in tribute.

"_Karate Kid _and _A New Hope? _You're mixing your movies there, Mr. Castle. Where are you taking Detective Beckett?" Rina asked as she slid onto a stool next to Alexis.

"Beckett? You finally asked Kate out?" His daughter's wide blue eyes bored through him, searching for confirmation.

"Richard! When did this happen? And to think all this time I've been hoping you would get the courage when you already had!" Martha's reaction was no less dramatic.

"Woah, woah, ladies. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not dating Kate," he said, waving his hands for calm.

Rina looked confused. "But, I mean, the way the two of you were acting when you were at Fashion Week, I thought you were together."

Castle chuckled as he put the finishing touches on the tapas. "I promise you, Kate and I are not together," at the disappointment on his daughter's face, he gave her a pat on the shoulder, "but you were absolutely right, daughter of mine, when you guessed that I have a date, and it's not even the first! I have had several dates now with the same woman. Jennifer and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks actually."

Both Martha and Alexis grabbed onto the mention of the mystery woman's name and prepared for a full interrogation that would have impressed any of the 12th precinct's detectives. They crowded around the breakfast bar, blocking the only male present from any means of escape. Initially, Rina hung back but when she saw the amusement glinting in the other women's eyes, she grinned and resumed her position next to Alexis.

"Jennifer? Jennifer who?" Martha asked as she leaned over the breakfast bar and fixed her son with a look that she knew from decades of practice left him unable to dissemble.

"Her name is Jennifer D'Amico," Castle said after a defeated sigh. He was backing up by this point, eyes scanning from side to side as he looked for a way out, but there were no chinks in the wall of feminine attention in front of him.

"Oh, she's Italian. What a gorgeous name!" Alexis gushed, "What does she do?"

"She's a nurse at Mount Sinai," he was still speaking slowly, as if he hoped that would distract the inquisition.

"Really," Martha interjected, "Now how on earth did you happen to meet and start dating a nurse?" The slight mocking tone in her voice left no one present in doubt that she had an idea of what might have happened.

"When I sprained my ankle over the summer, I had to go to the hospital. She just happened to be the nurse on duty," Castle tried to clarify without going into much detail.

"Ohhhh," Alexis breathed, sudden understanding dawning, "Florence Nightingale syndrome," she pronounced with all the authority of someone with an entire semester of junior year psychology under her belt.

"Now wait a minute," her father protested, "It wasn't like that!"

Undaunted, Alexis pressed on. "You fell for your nurse! That is so romantic!"

Castle waved his hands to calm the suddenly raucous din in his kitchen. "I promise you that's not what happened. I just left my wallet behind and she ran out after me to give it back after I hobbled out."

Martha folded her arms in the pose Castle recognized from his childhood. She either wasn't buying his story or knew that more was coming. At her firm "Uh-huh, and...?" he capitulated.

"Ok, fine. She left her card inside, and when I found it I called her. We got along well enough on the phone that I asked her for a drink. One thing led to another and we've been seeing each other ever since," he confirmed, rubbing his face with his hand.

Rina chuckled while Alexis squealed and Martha gave a triumphant nod. "So, when do we get to meet this wonderful nurse who so tenderly healed you from your own foolishness?"

Blue eyes grew huge. "Ah, not for a while yet I think."

"Oh come on, Dad! I want to meet her!" Alexis protested.

"This here," he indicated the line of interrogators with circular motions of his hands as he backed away towards the door, "is exactly why I need to make sure she's serious. If I think she can take your special brand of craziness, I'll invite her into this den of lionesses. Now if you three will excuse me, I need to leave or I'll be late."

"At least your clumsiness can't drive her away if you met her over an injury, Dad!" Alexis called after him as he closed the door to the three women's laughter.

* * *

The impromptu question and answer session meant that he was a bit late for dinner, but Jennifer's face held no sign of reproach when he finally made it to the pub. There was even a dark pint glass on the other side of the table from her.

"I was getting a little worried, Rick. Almost called the precinct to check up on you," she chuckled. "Never thought I'd have to call the police to figure out where my boyfriend was."

"Blame the inquisition," he replied as he sat down in the other side of the booth.

"Oh?" she looked expectant as she took a sip of her own Guinness, swirling the dark beer around her mouth in such a way that Castle had to take a calming breath before sipping his own. One of the things he was growing to love about his new girlfriend was how unconsciously sensual she really was. The swirling Guinness was a perfect example; she most likely had no idea how sexy she looked drinking beer that way, but even if she did, she wouldn't have minded either way.

"Mother, Alexis, and a former babysitter I used to hire when Alexis was younger discovered I was going on a date and just had to know all about the unlucky girl," he gave her his best grin to let her know he was teasing.

Jennifer looked confused. "A former babysitter? Isn't Alexis in high school?"

Realizing that she was unaware of the case he'd been working on, he nodded. "Right. The murder I was helping investigate involved one of the models at Fashion Week. While Detective Beckett and I were interviewing the victim's associates, I randomly met an Rina, the babysitter. She somehow grew up and became a model. I didn't even recognizer her at the time."

"How funny! How is she now?" Jennifer asked as the waitress brought out a tray of loaded potato skins. She smothered the beginnings of a chuckle with her hand as Castle's eyes widened and his stomach gave an involuntary rumble.

"You ordered my favorite!" he said appreciatively as he took two of the skins and put them on one of the small plates the waitress brought, "Um, she's doing well, but after seeing how much jealousy and backstabbing the victim endured as a model, I wanted to make sure Rina had a place to hide when that world gets too much. Alexis was thrilled to see her again."

"That's so sweet of you, Rick," she said as her eyes softened in affection. Something about the right light made her irises look like warm mugs of his favorite espresso.

As the date and their conversation went on, Rick learned more than just what she told him about herself. She seemed to need to talk about her experiences at the hospital, which was probably a good vent for her daily frustrations dealing with truculent patients and soul-crushing bureaucrats. He had much the same outlet via his books. Observing how her eyes changed in relation to her mood, he amended his previous assessment; they sparkled like light foam on a cappuccino as she recounted how a fellow nurse was caught with an orderly in one of the supply closets, but turned dark and stormy like true Italian espresso in anger at how patients with money were treated better than those who couldn't afford to make large donations to the hospital.

Her hair, normally put up in a ponytail so it would stay out of her face at work, fell in simple waves around her face. Try as he might, he couldn't remember the last time he went on a date with someone who didn't look like she spent multiple hours getting her hair arranged. The unpretentiousness of the appearance only endeared him to her more.

He barely noticed the waitress bringing their main courses and refill drinks, so lost was he in her passion for nursing. Kate inspired him because of her dedication to justice, but Jennifer was equally devoted to caring for others, even to the point of taking a year-long sabbatical to work with orphans and victims of conflict in Africa with Doctors Without Borders. The waitress brought the check as they laughed over her memories of being chased downriver by a particularly territorial bull hippopotamus. As she reached over for her purse, he tried to stop her. "Don't worry, I've got this one."

She waved him off, not having any of it. "No, no, Rick. You paid for the pizza last week. We agreed that whoever picks the restaurant pays for dinner, right?"

Castle smiled. "All right, if you insist. I've never been able to deny anyone who knows how to use who and whom properly."

Returning the grin, she said, "That could get awkward fast, especially if your daughter figured that out. Anyway, I do insist." After tossing enough cash to cover the bill and a healthy tip, she stood, "Ready to head out?"

He stood with her and offered his arm. "Absolutely. If you're in the mood for dessert, I know a little place not far from here that has the best gelato."

Jennifer rewarded him with her biggest, widest grin. "That's so sweet. Thank you!"

* * *

Three blocks from the restaurant, they were strolling hand in hand when a scream echoed across the street. They each spun automatically to the sound, him from his experience shadowing a detective and her from her time as a medical professional trained to respond to distress.

A small crowd was clustered around someone lying on the sidewalk. Without any spoken agreement, Rick and Jennifer started running toward the emergency, but she was faster. They skidded to a stop just behind the group of people.

The first thing Castle saw was the shock of bright red hair spilling out across the pavement. The hair belonged to a girl of about nine or ten years old, and he had to physically stop himself from staggering backward at how much she resembled Alexis at that age. His face paled and he had to struggle for breath. Jennifer noticed his coughing, but was too focused on the girl lying on the pavement to turn away.

"I'm a nurse. Maybe I can help. What happened?" She asked a woman who was clearly the girl's mother.

"I have no idea!" The panicked woman almost shouted as her arms flailed impotently, "We were just walking to dinner when she started shaking and sweating a little." She brought one hand to her mouth and had to bite off a sob.

"Call 9-1-1, Rick." Jennifer ordered, as much to give him something to distract his attention as it was to make sure an ambulance was on the way. He punched in the numbers as fast as his still-trembling fingers allowed, but most of his focus was on Jennifer and the unfortunate girl on the pavement. Her demeanor was completely different than it had been less than ten minutes before, as if she'd flipped a switch from 'Jennifer' to 'Nurse D'Amico'. She was entirely professional, examining the girl efficiently with as little rearranging of her new patient as circumstances allowed.

At the same time, she didn't let the stress of the event turn her into a drill sergeant. She could have easily barked questions in the same tone of voice as the order she gave him, but her experience had taught her to deal more gently with family members, so as soon as she needed information from the girl's parents, her tone was soft and kind. The dichotomy was jarring but fascinating to watch. Rick started making mental notes for possible medical characters if Nikki or Jameson were to get injured in the next book.

As she continued examining the girl, Jennifer saw the sheen of sweat and still trembling limbs. She turned to the girl's mother. "What's her name?"

"Melissa," the woman almost sobbed out.

Jennifer brushed some damp bangs out of the girl's eyes before shaking the girl's shoulders gently, asking, "Melissa? Can you hear me? We need you to wake up if you can. Come on, we really want you to open your eyes, honey."

When there was no response, Jennifer made sure Melissa was breathing and took her pulse. Her heart was racing; by Jennifer's measurement the pulse read at 117 beats per minute, which was classic tachycardia. She turned to Melissa's parents. "Does she have a preexisting heart condition?"

"Not that we know of. She's never had anything like this happen before," a man standing too close to be anything other than Melissa's father responded.

"Does she have any medical history like epilepsy or anything that would cause her to pass out?" Jennifer asked as she continued examining the unfortunate girl, only stopping when she made sure Melissa was still breathing.

The mother shook her head. "No, nothing that's ever been diagnosed at all."

Rick could see Jennifer mentally crossing conditions off a list. "Was she irritable before she passed out?"

The father stared. "Y - yes. How did you know that?"

Jennifer shook her head. "I've seen these symptoms before. Last question, when was the last time she ate anything?"

"She had an early lunch because we're going out for a special dinner tonight. I don't think she's had anything since 11," the mother answered.

That confirmed whatever Jennifer thought was going on, Castle could see as he clicked off his call. "The ambulance is on its way. Is she going to be ok?"

Jennifer looked at Melissa's parents. "I'm not a doctor, so I can't make any official diagnosis, but the symptoms you described are classic indicators of hypoglycemia. Has she ever had her blood sugar tested?"

The woman shook her head. "I don't even know what hypoglycemia means."

"Does that mean she's diabetic?" Her husband asked as he rubbed his wife's back in an attempt to calm her.

Jennifer looked up as the sound of an ambulance's siren approached. Rick could see from the tensed muscles and periodically clenching jaw as well as the way her eyes flicked around constantly that she was tense. Her own adrenaline had to have been racing, but she forced calm into her voice to keep Melissa's parents from losing their composure completely. "It's complicated. It could be an indicator of undiagnosed diabetes, or it could be related to any number of other causes. The doctors will be the ones to tell you for sure. Right now, what's important to know is that everything you told me points to her blood sugar falling dangerously low. Sweating, trembling, irritability, and difficulty maintaining consciousness are all symptoms. The doctors at the hospital will run a lot of tests to determine the root cause, but make sure you tell them everything you told me." She stood and moved back to let the arriving paramedics take over the scene.

"What happened?" The first paramedic to arrive asked the group.

Sensing that the parents were still reeling from the events, Jennifer explained the situation. Here again her personality shifted and Nurse D'Amico was fully in charge. She was so forceful and direct as she told the medics what she knew and what she suspected that Rick had no troubles imagining the humiliation subordinates who screwed up at the hospital had to suffer.

"…so if you have a glucometer she needs a scan right the hell now," she finished in a commanding voice that he thought would have had some of the police instructors impressed.

The medic nodded and started barking orders at his team. One of them ran and brought a little box, the glucometer, and an alcohol swab. After sterilizing the side of the tip of her finger, he gave her a poke and took a few drops of blood. Putting the sample in the glucometer, he saw that the girl's blood sugar read 25 milligrams per deciliter. "Definitely hypoglycemic, whatever the reason is. We need to get her to the hospital immediately." He left them and helped load Melissa onto a gurney. As they slid her in, Rick could hear him tell the ER to have a glucagon shot ready to go.

"Thank you, thank you so very much for helping her," Melissa's mother said, giving Jennifer a quick embrace as they got ready to follow.

Rick watched as Jennifer flushed slightly. "Don't worry about it. Just get her to the hospital and get her some care," she told the couple.

The woman got into the back of the ambulance, but her husband paused. He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a business card. "I know it sounds like scant thanks right now, but if there's ever anything we can do for either of you, please call me. Anything I can do to help you, I will," he promised.

Jennifer pocketed the card and waved as the man followed his wife into the ambulance before the vehicle sped toward the nearest hospital.

Drawing her into an embrace as the onlookers slowly dissipated, Rick whispered into her ear, "You were absolutely, utterly amazing."

She leaned back and smiled up at him, surprised at his awe. "It wasn't that big of a deal. I was just helping where I could."

"That's what makes it a big deal," Castle insisted, refusing to let her shirk the adulation, "No one else nearby stepped up to help her, but you ran across the street and pushed through a crowd to do what you could for that girl. That's what makes you so incredible." He still found that explanation wanting, so he tried to demonstrate his opinion with a searing kiss.

When they broke apart, Jennifer's eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Thank you, Rick."

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asked with concern flooding his voice.

She just shook her head before burying it against his chest once more. "Nothing at all. I just don't usually hear such nice things for doing my job. Most of the patients I deal with are either cocky jocks or retirees that are either miserable or confused. I almost never hear a 'thank you'."

Rick kissed the crown of her head and continued gently rubbing her upper back. "That's going to change right now," he promised, "The way you showed compassion to that girl and her parents blew me away. You were wonderful."

Jennifer finally accepted the praise, kissing him to show her thanks. "Can we still go for gelato?" she asked, with an expression full of innocent hopefulness.

He laughed. "After that display, I'll buy the whole damn gelateria if that's what you want."

* * *

**A/N: And there we have Chapter 5. I hope you enjoyed this!**

**If you have the inclination, please click the little button down below and leave me some feedback. Knowing what seems to be working and what isn't will help me iron out the wrinkles in my plot - even a simple 'Like' or 'Dislike' would be helpful to a degree. **

**Thanks again!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And here we are back with another Broken Road update! Thank you to everyone for waiting so patiently for me to post another chapter. My only excuse is real life. A toddler and a full-time job push my writing time to the ends of my day.  
**

**This chapter spans episodes 2.4-2.6. I noted the breaks again to help avoid confusion. **

**No beta saw these lines, so any and all mistakes are completely mine. ****Insert standard disclaimer about not owning Castle, the episodes, or the characters. **

******Enjoy!**

* * *

**Episode 2.4: Fool Me Once… **

"So you really don't think he could have truly fallen in love with her?" Castle looked at the woman behind the wheel, unwilling to let the argument drop. As she huffed and rolled her eyes, he geared up for another try. She'd been dismissive throughout the whole case, but her continued belief that a con man could never fall in love with someone who might or might not have started out as a mark stirred something in him, and he was on a quest to change her mind.

"What part of 'he was a con man' is confusing you, Castle? She was nothing more than his hundred million dollar meal ticket. Why are you defending him like this? Fletcher conned that old lady out of her life savings just before he scammed an entire _set_ of elementary schools out of fifty thousand dollars, so why are you on his side?" She tried not to grip the steering wheel too hard as they verbally sparred in the New York traffic.

"Because I don't think Elise was a con! I think she really changed him. Look at the pre-nup! Even her father thought he was legit, and he had the guy investigated!" He gestured to add emphasis, but the cramped interior of the car made it more work than it was worth.

"I've seen the same thing too many times, Castle. The thrill of the con overrides every other impulse. She was just another game to him," she pronounced, staunch in her dismissal of his efforts.

"Don't you believe in love?" he tried a different tack.

"Not really." She shook her head, knowing the can of worms that statement would open.

"Not - huh - who - _what?!"_ By the time he was done, he was stammering and sputtering in his inability to find a coherent response.

She flashed a sardonic grin. "I told you: I've seen too much. People don't change who they are, and in this case, I just don't buy it," she took a minute to glance at him out of the corner of her eye and when she saw how hard he was trying to come up with an argument that would change her mind, continued in a softer tone, "Look, I know you have a new girlfriend and the world is daisies and sunshine, but everyone's got their skeletons. Everybody has secrets. Life isn't a Disney movie, Castle. Chances are if someone's a toad, they can't become Prince Charming no matter who kisses them."

"How did you know I was seeing someone?" Castle asked, focusing on the one bit of new information she gave him.

"You need to look at my badge when you're checking out my ass, Castle," she said with a chuckle at his double take, "Detective, remember? You've taken tons of calls you didn't explain, you got sad when the couples therapist was killed, and now you think a career con man fell in love. If that wasn't enough, I overheard you address her by her first name during one of those calls," she explained.

"Okay fine, but I refuse to believe that most people are that bad," he retorted, but offered no further arguments.

She heard the pout in his voice and, bothered by a vaguely guilty feeling at the knowledge that she'd dampened his spirits, decided to cushion the blow. "The sense of wonder that you have, the way you see magic in the mundane is one of the things that makes you so unusual, Castle. It's one of the reasons Alexis is such a remarkable young woman. Whomever your new girlfriend is, I'm sure she's enchanted by your ability to see beyond the surface and look for magic."

He grunted, but his defensive posture eased somewhat.

Kate sighed, knowing she would need to do something later to make up for ruining his mood.

* * *

**Episode 2.5: When the Bough Breaks**

"Why are we here again, Dad? Not that I mind, really. I'm always ready for dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant, but we left in such a hurry and…"

Castle let his daughter ramble on while they got settled at their table. Specifically, it was a table set for four, but so far only he, his mother and his daughter were present. When Alexis wound down, he smiled. "I just thought it would be nice to have a family dinner out."

Her narrowed eyes displayed her suspicion. "What happened at the precinct today?"

His fingers nervously fiddling with the napkin in front of him told both mother and daughter there was more going on than he was willing to admit. "Okay. Kate, the boys and I had a case that was kind of emotionally draining, so I just wanted a night out with you two to distract myself. Is that so bad?"

Martha looked around. The restaurant was so crowded that not a single seat was empty at any other table. "Ok, so who's the fourth?" she asked with a pointed glance.

He put his napkin down and sighed. "I thought it would be a good time for you both to meet Jennifer."

Worried about the defeated tone, Alexis gripped her father's hand. "Dad? What happened with the case that affected you so much?"

"The victim was an illegal immigrant. She was separated from her husband, and their son had died a few years ago. At least that's what they thought. We found out that she was fired from the concierge apartment building where she used to work for getting too 'emotionally close' to one of the resident's children. It turned out that boy was her actual son, and the guy he thought was his father was a doctor at the hospital where both boys were born. He switched bassinet labels when he discovered his own son had a terminal illness. No one ever caught the mistake. When the victim got a DNA swab, she learned the truth, so he killed her. We were able to uncover the truth and show the victim's ex-husband his real son…" Castle trailed off, choking up slightly at the emotional memory. He took a sip from his water glass and cleared his throat deliberately. "It really drove home how lucky I am to have the two of you in my life, so I thought it would be nice to introduce you to the next most important woman in my life."

Horrified at the crime, Martha's hand joined Alexis's. "I think it was a lovely idea, Richard."

He gave her a slightly watery smile. "She should be here any minute."

Alexis took a sip of her own water, crunching an ice cube the way she had ever since she was a toddler. "That case had to have been heartrending. How did Detective Beckett manage?"

Turning his head back to the table after scanning the restaurant, Castle gave a brief thought back to the conversation he had with Kate about children. "I'm not really sure. She can be a bit closed off at times, but I think she was just as upset as I was. It was a really terrible way to tear apart two families."

Just as he finished speaking, a dirty blonde with eager brown eyes approached their table. As he turned to see who was there, Alexis saw her father's face light up. _Anyone who could make him smile that wide is worth getting to know better_, she thought to herself as he stood up and wrapped her in a big hug. He turned to his now standing relatives. "Alexis, Mother, I'd like to introduce Jennifer D'Amico. Jennifer, this is my mother Martha and my daughter Alexis."

* * *

**Episode 2.6: Vampire Weekend**

An hour in and his Halloween party was mostly successful. The guests were impeccably costumed, the music playlist had all the scary classics, and the food and drink could not have been better. Witches, mummies, Pharaohs, ghosts, goblins, and even an Elvis and a Frankenstein or two flitted around his apartment, engaging in animated conversations, nibbling on various Halloween-themed snacks and sipping from goblets of a very potent witch's potion. The only negative was that Kate had yet to show up.

The one fly in Castle's ointment.

Jennifer was there, but ever since coming back to the precinct he had been looking forward to seeing what Kate would dress up as for his Halloween party. His career currently centered on getting inside the detective's head, and he wanted to see if his prediction for her costume was right. He joked with her about the slutty nurse costume, but he knew she would never wear something so scandalous in public. Kate Beckett was nothing if not fiercely protective of her privacy.

Dressed as his chosen namesake Edgar Allen Poe, he greeted his guests. The disturbing case of the murdered artist they'd just concluded left a bitter taste in his mouth. Starting with a vampire coven, blood play, and coffin sex was bad enough but finishing the case by learning that the victim witnessed his nanny shoot his mother, then spent his entire life unconsciously depicting the act in his art put a twisted feeling in his gut.

After showering off the vaguely disgusted feeling that had plagued him since the conclusion of the case he started getting the bar set up for the party. While he was in the process of making sure all the alcohol was present that he'd ordered, a knock took his attention. Soft hair and warm eyes greeted him as he swung the door open and moments later Jen was in his arms, somehow seeing the need for physical affection in his eyes. After enjoying her embrace for a moment, he'd led her into the loft and gave her a brief tour, since it was her first time there. She'd locked him out of his own guest room to change and then pitched in wholeheartedly to help decorate.

Seeing Lanie take a drink from his bar drove his need for theatrics. _Damn being the son of an actress sometimes, _he thought as he greeted the medical examiner in the sexy cat costume. She sassed him right back, which put a grin on his face. Lanie had a slightly twisted sense of humor, so he usually sought her out after troubling cases. She knew how to let the gruesome ones slide right off her back.

He left Lanie and wandered over to the door, checking to see again if Beckett had arrived. Unfortunately, Ryan and Esposito were waiting for him. Ryan, in his bloody lab coat and scrubs, earned a stink eye from Jennifer, although his confusion reminded Castle that he was waiting for Kate's arrival to make introductions. Esposito, dressed as a soldier, started razzing him with Ryan about his impatience.

"Hey Poe. Looking for me?" came a challenge from behind him.

Castle spun around at the sound of that voice. He thought he'd been prepared for any costume Kate might have decided to wear, but seeing her without makeup in a black trench coat - which definitely sent some thoughts through his mind that Jennifer wouldn't enjoy knowing about - wasn't something he expected.

"You're…you!" he exclaimed, not even bothering to hide his dismay.

"You sound so disappointed, Castle," she retorted in a bored, indulgent voice.

"I said costumes mandatory. I mean, dress up, you know? Be a little scary?

"Yeah well, I was going for sexy," she reached for the belt, knowing that it was going to drive him crazy.

Castle, although noting the daring glint in her eyes, reached for the stuffed raven he was holding as his attention fixated irrevocably on that buckle.

Just as she undid the belt and - a very small part of his brain hoped she was nude underneath while the rest of him knew she wouldn't ever do that in public - a grotesque frog puppet sprang forth, startling the entire crowd and making him jump in surprise.

"Now we're even," Kate declared.

"I'm giving you the bird," he retorted with as much dignity as he still possessed as he held out the stuffed raven.

The assembled crowd gave various titters and chuckles at his expense. Kate scanned the group, seeing Martha, Ryan, and Esposito in their various costumes. On the periphery however, an extremely authentic Arwen Evenstar wore a disapproving frown at the entire display. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met," she said, holding out her hand.

That seemed to jolt Castle out of his reverie. "Oh that's right! I was waiting for you to get here to introduce everyone. Kate Beckett, Javier Esposito, Kevin Ryan, and you know my mother, ," he began, gesturing to each in turn, "I would like you to meet…"

"Jennifer D'Amico! Holy crap, girl! How long has it been?" Lanie's enthusiastic greeting surprised everyone but the elf she was currently hugging.

"Lanie Parrish! Oh my God! Senior year at least! How are you?" Even Castle was taken aback by the sudden transition from the slightly awkward introduction to enthusiastic sorority sister-style hugging and squealing.

"…my girlfriend," he finished, though he knew his dramatic introduction lost something with Lanie's ebullient greeting.

Jennifer shook her head and smiled. "Hi! It's so nice to finally meet you, Kate, ah, Detective Beckett. I've heard so much about you." She took Kate's outstretched hand and shook it warmly.

"Really?" Kate's eyes belied the surprise not evident in her deadpan tone as she shook hands, "Castle hasn't told me much about you at all."

Two sets of accusing eyes and folded arms focused on him, forcing Castle to back up with his hands - and the raven - raised. _Woah. How do they _do _that? _"Hey now, between helping to solve murders and writing, I don't exactly have time for a lot of chatting."

Kate's glare at his omission told him he was in for a long few days at the precinct. Jennifer's raised eyebrow told him he was equally as deep in her doghouse. Taking Jennifer's elbow, Kate gently steered her in the direction of the bar. "Let's head off where we can chat privately. I have a feeling you and I have a lot to talk about…"

"I'll find you around here later on and we'll get caught up," Lanie called after her classmate. She and Martha then melted into the rest of the party. Only Ryan and Esposito stayed close. Thinking it was to offer moral support, Castle's chagrin only increased when they tag-teamed him. Esposito started with, "You have no idea the misery they're cooking up for you right now, bro."

Ryan wasn't far behind. "Speaking as the brother to quite a few Irish sisters who pulled that move with the girls I brought home, you are in so much trouble, dude. When the women in your life talk together without you around, it's never a good thing."

With twin pats on his shoulders, they left him alone in the foyer, heart somewhere around his ankles and dread filling his mind.

* * *

**Episode 2.6: Famous Last Words**

_Who _is _this guy? _

Kate was fairly certain, if not completely positive, that the man next to her was still Richard Castle. He had Castle's incredibly gorgeous blue eyes (_down girl! This is not the time)_, his perfectly arranged hair, and his fashionable suit, but the expression and tone were completely new. His normally twinkling eyes were cold and hard, and the words he growled out indicated a barely-restrained anger. As they - or rather Castle - wrung the truth out of Ian Busch, the record producer who first sexually assaulted and then killed the young singer under his care, she was entirely positive that her partner would like nothing more than to pound the man into a bloody, quivering pulp. Her inner voice reminded her that it was only through extreme self-control that she was restraining herself from doing the same.

She let him lead the way out of the small room as the uniforms took their suspect to booking. Over her shoulder, she saw Ryan and Esposito escort Bree to a counseling room while Castle moved to the break room, presumably to get some coffee. Following him in, Kate noticed one uniform sitting at a table with a snack. Fixing the man with a glare, she jerked her head toward the door. He got the point and exited the room so fast he left the coffee and muffin on the table. Kate had to hold them out the door and count to three before he came back for them.

Castle missed the whole scene, pointedly focused on the espresso machine although she could hear his shaking hands rattle the mug that he somehow managed to fill. Walking over, she put one hand on his forearm. The surprise contact broke him out of his stupor and his entire body jerked. The force sent the mug to the floor where it shattered explosively, splashing coffee everywhere. "Hey, hey. Calm down, Castle." He wasn't responding, so she had to take his hands and forcibly still their tremors.

Wide-eyed, he took several deep breaths and tried to force himself to calm down. When he looked down, he saw the extent of the coffee spill. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. Let me get something to clean that up."

He started to turn away, but she refused to let him go. "Forget the damn coffee. What's going on with you right now?"

"I'm okay, Kate. Promise." His attempt at bravado that failed to hide the tremble in his voice wouldn't have fooled a child, let alone a homicide detective trained to observe and analyze the smallest of details.

"Bullshit. You wouldn't let me hide behind that and I'm not letting you. Talk to me, Castle," she demanded, leaning over until he was forced to make eye contact. The anguish she saw in his eyes made her heart flutter, and she had to suppress the urge to wrap him in a hug.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when they opened again, Kate could see the rage slowly ebb away. "I have never been as angry as I was in that room just now, Kate. I wanted to strangle that son of a bitch with my bare hands for what he did. The thought of…" he trailed off as his voice choked, leaving him unable to even voice the deed, so horrible to the father of a teenage daughter.

"I know. Me too. Believe me, it's tough to look into the face of evil and restrain yourself, but that's why we have the system we do. He's going away for a long, long time, where he can never hurt anyone again," she said, giving a brief pause after each of the last few words for emphasis.

"You - you're right. I'm sorry I dropped the mug," he said as the tension left his frame and he relaxed back against the counter.

"Don't worry about it. I'll clean the mess up. You get out of here. Go home, give Alexis a hug. Are you seeing Jennifer tonight?" she asked, barely hiding the hitch in her voice at the nurse's name. Their chat at his Halloween party left her feeling vaguely unsettled. She was used to Castle the known quantity, he of Deep Fried Twinkie and Page Six fame. Seeing him happily dating a woman like Jennifer, who had absolutely no pretensions and was one of the most easygoing human beings Kate ever met was unexpected. She still hadn't fully understood all of her own feelings on the matter.

"I hadn't planned to, but I think I am going to give her a call. After that…experience I'd rather be with her, you know?" He looked at her, suddenly realizing she didn't have anyone to go home to, let alone a mother, daughter, or significant other. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…well, do you want to hang out at the loft for a while?"

She gave a small grin at his attempt to extricate the foot now protruding from his mouth. "It's ok, again, Castle. I have paperwork here to finish up, and then I might see if Lanie wants to go out for a drink. After tough ones like these we usually hit a bar somewhere."

He smiled, knowing her tried-and-true method for unwinding would serve her well again. Grabbing a handful of napkins, he helped Kate clean the mess. Once they were done, he checked her desk for anything he might have left behind before heading toward the elevators.

When Kate heard his normal farewell, "Until tomorrow," she hid a smile behind her own coffee. He was back. The smile turned into a grimace when he was safely in the elevators. She couldn't explain the strange discomfort she felt up under her rib cage at his departure, knowing what he was going to be doing the rest of the evening, and more importantly, with whom he would be spending the evening.

She turned to her paperwork and sent Lanie a quick text message asking if the Medical Examiner was free that evening.

* * *

As she did her last round of patients under her care, Jennifer D'Amico was so close to finishing her shift she could smell the tantalizing wafts of mango scented bubble bath waiting at her apartment. Budget cuts had the hospital shifting patients from different departments. Specialized cases called for float pool nurses, but repeated complaints had been stonewalled by management. She was tired of being told to suck it up and care for patients outside her experience. Her feet were aching after a twelve hour shift of chasing around her floor for everything from new bandages to getting a doctor to admit his mistake on a patient's medication notations. The a_rrogant asshole almost killed that poor woman today,_ she grumbled to herself, finally having run out of both patients and patience.

The final task in her shift was giving report to the night nurse. It was tedious, and one of her least favorite parts of her work day. The only saving grace was that it was the last step before she was free to leave. She give her replacement an account of what procedures, tests, and treatments occurred; the status of every bodily system from cardio to renal; their ambulatory capabilities, when surgical dressing were last changed; any notes the doctor had left; and the possibilities for discharge. Comprehensive and laborious, it was the one thing between her and sweet, sweet freedom.

Just as she trudged out the automatic doors into the fresh - for New York - air, her phone chimed an incoming text message in her pocket.

**Busy tonight?**

She frowned. Usually Richard's text messages were longer. They only got short when he had other things on his mind. Her reply was automatic.

**For you, never too busy. What's up?**

It was a long day, but if he needed her, she still had the energy for him.

**Really bad day. Any chance you could meet me at the loft?**

She frowned, absently moving out of the way of arriving visitors. Bad days for him usually meant particularly draining cases. Gory murders weren't so bad for him; it was the emotionally-charged cases that usually put him into a funk. Parents killing kids or vice versa always sent him home needing to see and hug his daughter, mother, and more recently, herself. She'd also noticed that nothing in the machinations of his publishing company drove him into her arms like some of the worst cases he saw with the 12th.

The worst she'd ever seen him was after the case involving the immigrant woman, her son, and the doctor. Richard's eyes had held a bittersweet pain that night as he explained how he managed to reunite the living boy with his real father after sending the doctor to prison. It was a tragedy, but with a semi-happy ending, and he was emotional enough that evening that after giving Alexis a hug and whispering how much he loved her, Richard spent the night in her arms, holding her but needing to be held more than anything else. She'd dated men before that claimed to need to be held, but either wanted to use that as an excuse to get her into bed or didn't understand how emotionally draining some of her days could be. At least Rick knew that if she came over, she was coming right from taking care of other people. He wouldn't expect her to keep up that effort all evening.

The upshot was that when he started a text off with 'really bad day', he usually meant it. Somehow she never felt like he was trying to use her or take advantage of her, so comforting him didn't seem to take as much out of her.

**Sure thing. I'm going to have to shower when I get there though. Damn administration gave us a bunch of medical patients and I'm germy.**

Jennifer started walking toward the subway, but it was only a few steps before her phone beeped again.

**Of course. Shower, wine, and dinner await, my lady.**

For the first time that day she smiled.

* * *

Castle spent the rest of the cab ride back to his loft puzzling over the two most important non-relative women in his life. It didn't happen often, but lately Detective Beckett was relaxing long enough to let him see glimpses of Kate more and more. Every time he was allowed to see some part of the woman behind the badge, he treasured the instance, knowing it was a sign of her growing trust in him as a friend.

As a friend.

The words bothered him, though the reason was hard to define. He'd always been attracted to Kate, even from their first meeting. Once he got over treating her like any other bimbo and saw how deep the woman really was, his affection grew exponentially. _Heat Wave_'s dedication, he reflected as the taxi passed through another intersection, was simplistic but entirely accurate: she was extraordinary. Complicating the situation was the fact that he was just as sure that his feelings were unrequited. She'd made it brutally clear on numerous occasions - some could be written off as her particular brand of flirting, but they were too numerous to be entirely an act - that she wasn't interested. He'd met her boyfriend right before he manned up and confessed his transgressions. If that was the type she went for, he never had any hope.

Jennifer - Jen - was something else altogether. She was grounded in a way that was like no other woman he'd dated since Kyra, and maybe not even her. Meredith and Gina were fashionistas to the extreme, spending gobs of money on designer clothes and taking any chance they could to go to spas for beauty treatments. Jen was the exact opposite - she said that after a day on her feet, all she wanted to feel was comfortable, and she couldn't care less what the name on the label was. Expensive hair appointments and delicate fingernail work was wasted when she was wrist-deep in the various fluids that nurses had to deal with on a daily basis, according to her.

She was more apt to spend her days off in jeans and a sweater at the local bookstore than she was to get dressed up, put her best makeup on, and do some damage to Fifth Avenue. She came from money, but never acted like it. She even managed to convince him to go see a Yankees game. Her enthusiasm was catching, and by the time Mariano Rivera closed out the White Sox, he was a fan. She had already promised to take him to a Yankees game whenever they both had the free time.

He was already looking forward to an evening of cuddling, offering and receiving physical comfort and reassurance with an escape from the vicissitudes of the real world. He'd once made the mistake of asking Meredith to hold him after a particularly scathing review of an early Derrick Storm novel, but after she laughed him out of the room and verbally emasculated him for days, he never made that mistake again. Jennifer - again - was entirely different. She never made him feel less of a man for needing comfort from her embrace. Knowing how calming the sensation of hearing his heart beat was for her, she never denied him the opportunity when he needed it.

* * *

When he got back to the loft, Alexis and Martha were making a light dinner in the kitchen. He stood against a wall inside the foyer where he could observe them without being seen. Giving his mother a place to stay when her ex-husband cleaned her out was an automatic reaction. She'd taken care of him during lean times in his childhood and now he got the chance to return the favor. Despite the periodic moments of awkwardness and his frequent urges for brain bleach, having her around was a huge positive for Alexis. There were just some life questions that a man couldn't answer.

The same way she kept him grounded, Alexis had a way of heading off his mother's wilder tangents. As he watched their easy rapport, the tension of the day started slowly seeping away, aided by her easy, care-free smile. It was a far cry from the forlorn young woman who had been so upset at the death of one of her favorite singers just a couple days before.

He cleared his throat to get their attention over a chorus of giggles. "Good evening Alexis, Mother."

His daughter came over to give him a hug. "Hi, dad! You're home early. Did you get the killer?"

Powerless to completely wall off his feelings behind a blank expression, he settled for a small tightening of his eyes and a set jaw. "Yeah, pumpkin. We got him. It was her producer. Apparently he made some…unwanted advances…and she was going to tell his wife."

Martha covered a gasp with one hand. "How awful! What a monster. At least he won't be hurting anyone else, thanks to you and Detective Beckett."

Rick nodded. "Apparently Jennifer had a bad day of her own, so I invited her over for a quiet evening on the couch."

"That sounds like just what you both need," the older woman agreed.

He smiled and went off to his bedroom to change, hoping the new clothes would help his outlook.

* * *

Much later, long after all the pizza was gone and Martha and Alexis were upstairs in bed, Rick and Jennifer remained intertwined on the couch together. The fireplace was simulating its warming glow and the TV was dark. As they watched the flames, her hand was tracing lazy circles on his chest while he stroked her hair so softly it seemed to be lulling her into a light doze. She shook her head slightly as if to ward off sleep long enough to ask him a question.

"Rick?" he felt more than heard her say.

He stirred, noticing belatedly how tired he was. "Yeah?"

"Why do you do it?" she was tired enough that this vague question was all she could manage.

He chuckled. "Why do I do what?"

"Work with Detective Beckett still," she clarified dragging her head up enough to look him in the eye and reluctantly breaking the soothing motion of his hand, "Some of these cases you've told me about are horrible, but you keep going back for more. You have to have enough notes to write Nikki Heat for years, so why do you keep going back?"

He sat back and considered the question. "Well, you've told me about how hard it is to care for some patients when hospital policies and bureaucracy get in the way. You have enough money to not have to work, so why do you keep nursing when the administration drives you up the wall?"

"Because helping patients heal and improve their lives makes the other stuff not so hard to take," she answered automatically.

"Exactly. What I help Kate's team do, helping catch murderers and get justice for the families, it's worth the trouble. For once I'm doing something that has a tangible impact on society. It makes the danger and stress seem less when we get the guy in the end, you know?"

Understanding his point, Jennifer just nodded and resumed her snuggled position. "I guess it's a really good thing then that we understand that about each other."

Castle mumbled his agreement into the top of her head.

They didn't make it to the bedroom before the warmth of the fire, softness of the couch, and fatigue from the stressful day combined to send them both to sleep right where they were.

* * *

**A/N: There we go! I hope everyone enjoyed the meeting at the party. I'd appreciate any and all constructive feedback.  
**

**I'll do my best to get chapter 7 up before the end of the month when my second child is due, but I can't promise for sure that it will be posted. **


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